


Shadows of the Force

by JocastaSilver



Series: Light and Shadows Trilogy [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Comic), Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Force ability phobia, Gen, allusions to torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6270205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocastaSilver/pseuds/JocastaSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Atton Rand had ended up on Taris during the events of Kotor 1? How would this have changed galactic history? Revan/Bastila</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nar Shaddaa, Two Weeks before the attack on the Endar Spire  
Someone was following him. Atton Rand knew it. He could not see the person, but he could feel them, sense, that someone was pursuing him. Maybe it was due to…no, he could not think about what she had told him! Not now, and not ever. For now, he had to speed up, dodging his way through all the late night foot traffic. Nar Shaddaa was a city wide planet that never went to sleep. Even now, its cantinas and pazaak dens were filled with crews resting as their ships were re-fueled or tired locals who were looking for something to do to liven up the monotony of their impoverished lives. With all the beings around, it would be easy to lose himself in the crowd.  
He ran past a pair of Twi-leks and into the Green Room, a notorious pazaak den that was all but impossible to gain access to. Thankfully, Atton was a master at the game, and thus was free to come in and out of the place, as often as he liked. Its exclusivity made it ideal for losing any pursuers. The door guard never let anyone in without the password. Now that he was safe, he reviewed his situation. For the past hour, someone had been tracking him. Whoever it was clearly knew what they were doing. They were doing it so masterfully, that it was only due to his own special training that he knew.  
But how they were tracking him did not matter. It was the why. There were many Hutts such as Vogga, as well as the Exchange, which had its hands in nearly every business on the smuggler’s moon. But Atton had made a point of not get embroiled in Exchange or Hutt business. It reduced the number of bounties on his head, at any rate. That meant that there was only one group that would be after him.  
“No,” he thought. How could they have known that he was here? That was the reason he had chosen Nar Shaddaa in the first place. It was the ideal place to get lost in. For nearly a year, he had gotten lost, biding his time for the war to end, ideally with the Republic as the victors. And now they had found him. He could not hide in the pazaak den forever. They were patient enough to wait for him as long as they needed to. There was only one solution really. He needed to get off world now.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Jason Archer was not pleased when he woke up to the Endar Spire’s blaring alarms. He really was hoping to get some shut eye after a very boring and uneventful shift. As he stretched, groaning, the door burst open, heralding the arrival of his bunk mate Ensign Trask Ulgo. Jason himself personally did not know the man very well, although he had heard some of the other crewmembers complain about the man using his family connections to get a better position.  
“We have to find Bastila and help her!” the young man stated.  
“Tell me something I didn’t know already,” Jason retorted, as he reluctantly got out of his bed and grabbed his weapons and armor, checking to make sure his blaster was loaded, before turning to Trask. “You’re call, Ensign. Although personally, I think we should head to the bridge.”  
Fortunately, Trask nodded in agreement. “Good point. We need to help cover Bastila’s retreat. Let’s get to the bridge.” He punched in some codes to force the door open, before nodding to Jason. The pair began their long trek.  
Jason reflexively got into a battle stance, shooting down the Sith boarding party. Trask wasn’t as skilled, but he was at least managing to hold his own. At least, he was until a flash grenade soared towards him, and he ignored it. Jason dived across the floor shoving him out of the way. The grenade exploded with a resounding boom that was a little too close for comfort. Jason quickly jumped to his feet, gunning down the two remaining Sith troopers.  
He then turned to Trask. “You see what just happened back there kid. If I hadn’t been there that grenade would have blasted you into tiny pieces, and splattered you all over the ship.” Trask stared at the ground, not replying. He quickly added, “Just be more careful next time ok? You’re no use to Bastila dead.”  
Trask briefly met his gaze and nodded before turning away. Jason sighed. “If I get this kid out alive and safe with me, it’ll be a miracle,” he thought.  
Their trip to the bridge was largely uneventful, apart from their brief encounter with a Dark Jedi and Jedi Knight dueling each other. The Jedi had killed the Dark Jedi, only to have an explosion take her out. They had arrived at the bridge, and Jason had quickly switched to his vibroblade. It would be suicide to use a blaster in such close quarters, Jason knew that instinctively. Trask stood back, providing cover fire, while Jason charged, slashing the enemy troops, who one by one, all fell to either his blade or Trask’s cover fire. Jason quickly assessed the situation. The bridge of the Endar Spire was devoid of personnel. Just as Jason was about to suggest that there was nothing they could do, and maybe they should head to the escape pods, several explosions burst out, rocking the bridge.  
“Bastila’s probably already gone to the escape pods,” Trask observed. “The Sith will hold back as long she’s alive, but once she’s off there’s nothing stopping them from blasting the Endar Spire into galactic dust!”  
Jason could sense that Trask was more afraid than he let on. He placed a hand comfortingly on the younger man’s shoulder. “Listen kid. I know things might seem tough right now, but we’re both going to make it out alive if I have anything to say about it.”  
Trask nodded, and the pair left the bridge. The Endar Spire’s alarms continued to blare, and Jason had a feeling that the ship wasn’t going to last much longer. Just then, he heard a banging noise on the other side of one of the doors.  
“I think there’s something behind there.” Trask raced to open the door, which whirred open, revealing a dark robed man wielding a double-bladed lightsaber. “Damn another Dark Jedi! I’ll hold him off; you try and get to the escape pods!”  
Before Jason could stop him, Trask charged into the room, exploding the door closed behind him. Jason raced to the door, and banged against it, trying to get it to open, but he knew deep down it was futile. Trask was probably dead by now. The best thing he could do was honor that sacrifice by escaping this ship, and making sure the Sith did not win this war. He turned and headed through the other door towards the escape pods.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Two Weeks earlier  
Atton carefully snuck into the docks area, hoping that his pursuers were still waiting by the entrance to the pazaak den. Thankfully, Atton knew of a back door right behind the bar counter that led into an alleyway that was a shortcut to the docks. Atton had already stuffed what few belongings he owned into a bag, and had stopped by a merchant to stock up on shots for his blaster rifle.  
Just then he heard a loud racket coming from one of the landing pads. He carefully crept closer to get a better look. A motley group of several different humanoid species were having a rather intense argument in Hutteese.  
“Has anyone seen Aaron?” a yellowish skinned Mirialan who was probably the captain demanded.  
“He said he just needed to get some supplies,” a Sullustan reasoned. “He probably just got tied up with customs.”  
“Well we can’t stay here forever waiting for him,” a Twi’lek female pointed out. “Vogga charges a fortune for each hour we’re docked here.”  
“Well where do you plan on getting another crew member Alana,” the Mirialan demanded. “We need Aaron, unless one of you two idiots suddenly gained a skill in using the turbolaser and I did not notice.”  
Atton inwardly smirked. This was his big opportunity to get off planet and away from whoever was pursuing him. He cautiously stepped out of the shadows. “Good evening,” he spoke slowly in Hutteese. “I was just walking by when I could not help but overhear your predicament.”  
The Twi’lek and the Sullustan stared at him as if they weren’t entirely sure that he was real. The captain glanced at Atton, sizing him up. “Are you good with a turbolaser?” he asked.  
Atton smirked. “You might say I’m an expert in taking down enemy fighters.”  
The captain snorted. “We shall see. Oh, and we’re short on credits at the moment, so you’ll have to go without pay until we dock at our next stop, Taris.”  
Atton shrugged. “I’m just looking for a way off this moon, so you can drop me off at your next stop as payment.”  
The captain considered this and then stuck his hand out for Atton to shake. “Deal?”  
“Deal,” Atton agreed shaking it, while inwardly thinking, “Taris here I come.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………....  
Jason sat on the floor sweating and panting. The starboard section had been full of Sith, all determined to make sure that he did not make it through to the escape pods alive. But Jason had a reason to live for now, Trask was counting on him. Trask who had willingly sacrificed himself for a complete stranger. Jason had to make that sacrifice count for something. He punched open the door to the next room and was finally face to face with the commander of the Endar Spire, Carth Onasi.  
“You made it just in time! There’s only one escape pod left. Come on, we can hide on the planet below.”  
“Thanks for waiting for me sir,” Jason replied respectfully. While Trask had technically out ranked him, he had not felt the need to show respect towards someone who was both inexperienced and younger. Onasi in contrast was more experienced, at least when it came to combat. He had heard everyone talking in awe of the man who also served in the Mandolorian Wars.  
“I haven’t left anyone behind before and I’m not about to do that now. So let’s get into the escape pod.”  
Jason nodded and climbed into the narrow escape pod, Carth creeping right behind him. Jason immediately strapped himself in, as Carth launched the pod from its berth. Jason watched as the Endar Spire was incinerated by the Sith warships turbolasers. It had not been much, but it had been his home for the past month.  
The escape pod was exhilarating rapidly as it burned through the atmosphere into the planet below. “Brace yourself!” Carth yelled. “We’re coming in for a rough landing.”  
The escape pod crashed into a wall, and then everything went dark.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Two Weeks Earlier  
The blond haired human known as Aaron rushed towards the docks just as the ship was taking off. “Damn it!” he muttered under his breath. Not only had he lost the fake job, but the man his true boss had hired him to track was gone as well. At least he knew where the freighter was headed next. He tapped into his comlink.  
“Yes?” a cold feminine voice asked.  
“Well boss. I lost him.”  
“Then you have failed me for the last time Aaron.”  
“No wait! Please!” he begged. “I…I know where that ship is headed.”  
“Then tell me. My patience is running thin.”  
“That ship, the Shining Nova is headed for Taris!” he yelled desperately.  
“Very well,” the voice chuckled, sending a chill down Aaron’s spine. “Follow him, keep tracking him, when you find him again, contact me. Do not try to apprehend him yourself.”  
As he cut the connection, Aaron wondered whether it was really worth all this money to deal with someone who would kill him if he failed. But then again, the bounty she had offered him was high, and Aaron was willing to take risks for those credits. He would capture this man, and prove his worth to her if it was the last thing he did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, apart from any OCs.

Atton Rand was fuming as he walked back to his apartment. Taris had seemed like a great idea at the time, especially with an abandoned apartment that was mostly comprised of illegal aliens. And it had been a great place to hide. Until the Sith had invaded and put in their stupid quarantine, grounding all ships from leaving or entering Taris. Not to mention the fact that the Sith were occupying the planet, with frequent patrols and random searches. All of the Sith troopers sent a chill down Atton’s spine. Even though most of these losers would not know him, there was still the unlucky chance that he would run into someone from his past. There was one being in particular that he wanted to avoid. He involuntarily shivered. If she found him, well, he did not even want to think about what she would do to him.  
Just then, a missile shot right past his head, colliding with the wall with a loud bang. For a moment, there was silence. Then, a hand poked out desperately trying to grab for the door handle. Before he knew it, Atton had run up, and was banging on the door to the contraption. The man on the other side was yelling at him, but Atton could not make out the words.  
“What?!” he yelled back.  
“I said, get out of the way!”  
Atton considered his options quickly. He could just leave whoever this person was. The Sith troopers would be arriving soon, and the last thing he wanted to do was get arrested. But at the same time, he knew that the man would likely be taken in for interrogation. Just that thought brought back dark memories that he had tried so hard to suppress.  
Atton yelled, “How about I pull this door, and you push it. Between the two of us we should be able to get it open.”  
The other man nodded, and Atton grabbed the door and began to pull. The door swung open, and the man climbed out. He turned and began picking up another being that appeared to be lying unconscious in what Atton now realized was an escape pod. Atton moved to help, and the other man nodded consent. The unconscious figure was a man, brown haired, who appeared to be in his late thirties. He was wearing a set of light armor that appeared to be of Echani origin. Carefully, both men maneuvered the unconscious guy out of the escape pod, and into the nearby apartment. Atton opened the broken door, and the pair entered Atton’s apartment. They gently deposited the guy onto one of the beds. Then the guy turned to face him.  
“Who the Sith are you?” the guy accused, glaring at him.  
“Atton Rand,” he replied, wondering why the heck this guy was yelling at him, when he had just helped him about a second ago. “And you are?”  
“That depends on whose asking.” Even in the dim light, Atton could make out a Republic uniform. He heard rumors of a clash between Republic forces and the Sith, but he was surprised that he had managed to run into one of the survivors.  
“I did just save you and your friend, so I think I deserve to know just who it is I saved.”  
The guy snorted. “I’m Carth; the guy over there is Jason Archer. We’ll just be staying until he wakes up, then we’ll leave, and you can forget you saw us.”  
“No,” Atton replied. “You don’t have to leave, you can stay here.”  
“No, we are leaving.” Carth moved towards the door, but Atton placed an arm on his, stopping him.  
“Look, I know you’re anxious to get moving, but it’s probably going to be awhile before you’re buddy wakes up. Besides, the Sith forces are probably patrolling harder than normal. It’s best to wait-.”  
“Wait for what?!” Carth demanded. “For you to turn me and Jason in to the Sith!”  
“No! What I meant was that the Sith are going to be looking for Republic survivors right now. You need to wait until things quiet down a bit. And what’s wrong with you? You act like you don’t trust anyone.”  
“I don’t,” he admitted quietly.  
“What?”  
“I don’t trust anyone,” Carth replied. “I’m sorry, but I’ve learned the hard way, that you can’t trust anyone in this galaxy. Once Jason wakes up, we’re leaving.”  
Atton was desperate now. “Look, I want you to stay, because I need you and Jason. Both of you guys are my ticket off this rock. I’ll help you and once we escape this Force forsaken planet, we can pretend that we don’t know each other.”  
“Why are you so anxious to get off this planet?” Carth asked.  
“Let’s just say that I have no love for the Sith and keep it at that,” Atton stated, carefully maneuvering around the question. Right now, would be the worst time for his past to come out.  
“Fine.” Carth cautiously placed his hand out, and Atton grasped it gently, shaking. Then, Atton sat down in a faded armchair, and rested. It would be the last moment of true rest he would get in a long time.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
When Jason finally awoke he felt a little stiff from lying in one position for so long. The dream he had experienced. The Jedi fighting against Dark Jedi, the clash of lightsabers, and yet it was so much more vivid than his usual dreams. He struggled to sit up on the bed. Around him was the room of a run-down apartment. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was the loud bang of the escape pod as it smashed against a wall, jolting him forwards.  
“Careful,” an unfamiliar voice said. “After the crash you took, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re seeing stars right now.”  
Jason turned, and faced another guy. He was wearing a ribbed jacket that look soft, but Jason had a feeling that it was much tougher, and resistant to melee weapons. It was the kind of thing a smuggler or a bounty hunter might wear.  
“I’m fine.” He carefully stood, putting even weight on his feet. Already, he was starting to feel re-energized.  
“Well I’m glad to see you’re awake,” the third guy, Jason thought his name was Carth, said. “You’ve been thrashing around in sleep. You must been having one hell of a nightmare.”  
“You’re Carth, from the transmission, right? Thanks for saving me.”  
Carth shrugged. “I haven’t left a fellow soldier behind than, and I’m not about do it now. Now we need to work on locating Bastila.”  
“I hate interrupt, but who is Bastila?” the other guy asked, staring incredulously at both Jason and Carth.  
After a moment of awkward silence, Jason decided to answer his question since Carth seemed unwilling to provide any information. “Bastila’s a Jedi Knight who’s been helping in the fight against the Sith. She’s got some rare ability that influences battles.” He turned to Carth for help.  
“That unique ability is called battle meditation, and it’s apparently very rare. Bastila has the ability to influence entire armies, to either demoralize or encourage them. As you can probably guess, the Sith are desperate to get a hold of her. She was also part of the strike team that killed Darth Revan.”  
“Oh great, a Jedi,” the guy grumbled. He sat down, pulled out a deck of pazaak cards, and started flipping through them, occasionally pausing to stare at one of the cards.  
“She killed Revan?” Jason asked. He actually did not know much about either Revan or Malak. Sure he had once respected them for driving back the Mandolorians, but as far he could tell there was no reason for them to turn on the Republic.  
“Yeah,” Carth replied. “Unfortunately for us, the Sith quickly recovered with Malak as their new leader. And that’s why finding her is very important. I did some scouting around earlier. The Sith have declared on quarantine on the planet and aren’t allowing any ships to come in or out of Taris. We can’t count on the Republic to send someone to help us. If we want to get out off of this planet, we can’t rely on anyone but ourselves.”  
“So why us,” the other guy demanded. “I mean, Bastila’s a Jedi and all. She could probably get herself off planet easily.”  
“Because the Sith will be looking for her,” Carth explained. “And Force help us if they find her. But we’ll have to be cautious. Malak’s followers have the dark side of the Force on their side, and I’ve heard they do some awful stuff to the Republic forces they capture. They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind. That it can wipe away memories and destroy your very identity. But if we’re careful and don’t do anything stupid, we should be fine. After all, they’re not looking for some grunts like us. So let’s move out.”  
Jason nodded, and the men gathered their things, and began their quest to search for the Jedi who might very well decide the victor of this war.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Aaron slammed his gun down in frustration. This quarry had been the hardest he had ever tracked. Not to mention the fact that every force in the freaking galaxy seemed to be moving against him. First, it had taken him days to stow away aboard a freighter off of Nar Shaddaa. Then, just when he had arrived on Taris, the quarantine had been enacted. All interplanetary communications had been disabled. Clearly the Sith were taking no chances of the Republic being alerted of their victory.  
However, that also meant that he could not contact his employer of his progress, or rather lack of it. But then again, perhaps that was for the best. His employer was ruthless and did not tolerate failure. He had never met her face to face, but he had heard some rumors of her exploits. Rumors that sent chills down his spine. But her identity did not matter. No, what mattered was that he would complete his mission, and bring the man she had hired him to hunt to her. And then, well, he would have plenty of credits to have his own private base, and finally gain some respect in the guild.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
As the three of them made their way down the hall, they were stopped by a Sith commander. Flanked by two droids he glared at the two Rodians who had crossed his path.  
“Everyone back against the wall! This is a raid!”  
“But that isn’t fair!” one of the Rodians protested. “A patrol came here yesterday, and they found nothing, why do you Sith keep bothering us?”  
The Sith commander responding by gunning the Rodian down. “That’s how we Sith deal with smart-mouth aliens! Now the rest of you get up against the wall before I lose my temper again!” He turned and was faced with Atton and the two others. “Humans hiding out with aliens? Their Republic fugitives, attack men!”  
Without a signal, both Atton and Jason charged forward, attacking the Sith commander, while Carth provided them with cover fire. The commander was clearly not expecting a double attack. He did not even have time to reach for his vibrosword before he was cut down by the pair. The two quickly took down the two droids, who each exploded with a puff of smoke when they fell to their vibroblades.  
“Poor Ixgil,” the remaining Rodian commented. “He should have known better than to pick a fight with the Sith. Thank you for your assistance humans.”  
“Won’t the Sith notice that these people are missing?” Jason asked, worried.  
The Rodian shrugged. “I’ll move the bodies so it looks like they died somewhere else. Hopefully this will be the last time that the Sith bother us.” With that, he moved to pick up the corpse of the Sith commander.  
“Now let’s get to the cantina,” Atton suggested. “If we wanted to find out more information about the quarantine that would be a good place to start.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
When Bastila woke from the crash, stars briefly clouded her vision. She shook her head to clear it. The attack on the Endar Spire had happened so quickly, that she had not had a chance to use her battle meditation. The most she could do was try to encourage the few survivors to fight back long enough to reach the escape pods.  
What worried her most was the one she was supposed to be watching over. Although, he had not noticed her, she had kept an eye on him the whole time that he had served on the Endar Spire. She hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, except, that he of all the crew seemed to be the most dedicated to their mission of defeating the Sith. What if he had not made it? She shook her head strongly. He would survive, somehow. For now she had to find a way out of this escape pod.  
Suddenly, she heard a creaking sound as the escape pod door began to open from the other side. Her hands grabbed out desperately, searching for her lightsaber. Where was it? Just as her hand was starting to close in on the hilt, the door swung open, revealing a tough looking pair of thugs.  
“Well,” said one of them. “Look what we have here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now the two storylines finally unite.

When they arrived at the cantina, Atton started to split off from the group.  
“Hey Jaq!” Jason asked. “Where you going off to? Are you already bored to tears of both Carth and me?”  
Atton involuntarily flinched at the name Jason used. It was probably unintentional. But the name still brought back dark memories that he struggled to keep buried. “The name’s Atton, not Jaq,” he corrected. “And secondly, I’m going to play pazaak.” When Jason gave him a quizzical look he added, “You don’t exactly expect to rescue your Je-I mean your friend on a no credit budget, do you?”  
Jason nodded in understanding. “Just try not to bankrupt us. A former bunkmate of mine lost everything in pazaak game, except for the clothes on his back.”  
Atton laughed at that, and Jason gave him a weird look before moving off to another part of the cantina. Carth gave Atton a searching look before following Jason. Atton snorted. What was the guy’s problem? He had been watching him ever since they had met. If Carth found out about his past, well, Atton tried not to think of what would happen. Once he got off this planet, he could go and find another place to hide. But where could he hide? Nar Shaddaa was out of the question. He doubted he would be able to insert himself into an ideal position a second time. Besides, when he had left, the Exchange had been starting to make trouble with the Refugees. And Atton did not want to mess with the Exchange. Not if he wanted to stay alive. Any outer rim system was out of the question as long as the Sith forces were out there. Perhaps, Coruscant was another place that he could disappear into. Or he could always return to his homeworld of Corellia. Atton sighed wistfully. He had not seen the planet since he was in his late teens, right before he signed up to fight in the Mandolorian Wars. But was anywhere really safe, when the one he suspected was on his trail?  
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” he thought, as he whipped out his pazaak deck and accepted a challenge from one of the other players.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Jason carefully weaved his way through the bar patrons, with Carth trailing behind him. He occasionally stopped and chatted with various patrons who did not appear to be occupied with either pazaak or breaking the galaxy wide record for the most juma juice consumed in one sitting. Jason was surprised by the answers he got from his inquiries to their opinions about the Sith invasion and quarantine. Most were quite frank in condemning the Sith’s actions, and even the few who regarded Jason with suspicion admitted that the quarantine made the citizens of Taris’s already precarious struggle to survive that much harder. Moreover, this was just the Upper City. Jason was willing to bet that if life in the Upper City was hard, life in the Lower City was ten times worse.  
Just then, he tripped running right into a young woman wearing a Sith uniform. She was young, probably in her early twenties with light auburn hair and brown eyes. “Sorry,” he stated, and automatically held his hand out for her.  
She ignored his offered hand, stood up and glared icily at him. “Who are you?” she demanded.  
“Jason Archer,” he replied. “It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?” Although, she had behaved rather rudely earlier, Jason decided it would not kill him to be polite to her. As a Sith officer she might have information that would assist him in finding Bastila.  
“Sarna,” she stated through gritted teeth. “I’m a junior Sith officer stationed here on Taris.”  
“So you’re Sith?” Jason inquired politely.  
Sarna sniffed. “Don’t tell me, you’re one of those idiotic Tarisians coming to complain about the quarantine?”  
Jason smiled sympathetically. Sarna had clearly experienced hostile interactions with most of the natives. “Actually, I’m not from around here. I just happened to be on planet when the quarantine was put into effect.”  
“Then you probably hate us even more for stranding you here.”  
Jason shrugged his shoulders. “Taris isn’t one of the most exciting places I’ve visited, but it has been a blast to win money off pazaak players who think they’re champions. I just try to make the most out of the situation.  
Sarna nodded and smiled for the first time in the whole conversation. “That’s what I mean; it’s all about the attitude. I didn’t ask to be stationed some useless backwater planet, but that’s not going to stop me from fulfilling my duty.”  
Jason smiled back and nodded as if he understood her position. “I worked in the police department on my homeworld, and the smugglers we busted we’re always cussing us out all the way to their cells.”  
Sarna sighed, “It has been wonderful to talk with someone who actually understands. It does get rather lonely at the Sith base.” She furrowed her eyebrows as if she were considering something, and then turned and winked flirtatiously. “Some of the other junior officers and I are planning a party later on to blow off some steam. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you came.”  
Jason smiled back, trying to force down his guilt. He needed information if he and the other were going to locate Bastila before the Sith did. “Yeah, I love meeting new people,” he enthused.  
Sarna grinned ecstatically. “Well, it’s in the North Apartments East Side at 1600 hours. I hope to see you there Jason.” She walked off with a spring in her step.  
“What are you doing?” Carth sat in the spot that Sarna had vacated, his arms folded across his chest, and his brown eyes staring accusatively into Jason’s own. “Do you realize how dangerous that was, talking to one of them?”  
Jason sighed. “We need information if we’re going to find Bastila, Carth. And besides, she didn’t seem like a bad sort for a Sith officer.”  
Thankfully, the tension left Carth’s shoulders, and his temper deflated. “Fine, just be careful. You’re no use to Bastila dead.”  
Just then, the loud sound of a shot glass shattering echoed throughout the cantina. Jason motioned to Carth. “Let’s go over and check out what’s going on, I have a feeling our friend is right in the middle of things.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
In all honesty, the fight was not entirely Atton’s fault. He had easily won the first pazaak game without any effort, and his success had naturally attracted all the other pazaak players like moths to flame. The quarantine had limited the pool of players, so any new player was an exciting new challenge. All of them were amateurs easily defeated. Even the so-called pazaak “champion” barely grasped the rules of the card game; much less, the intense strategizing required in order to win the game.  
Unfortunately, the slight black haired “champion” had taken offense to Atton’s clear talent, and had accused him of cheating. Atton probably had not helped matters by claiming that the champion had no talent for pazaak whatsoever. This of course, had led to his current situation. Another shot glass smashed into the barstool, narrowly missing his head. Atton was not sure how much longer he could keep the dodging act up. While his past profession had trained him to defy many human odds, he was not invincible.  
Just then, he heard a loud shout. “Stop!”  
Everyone, patrons, fight bystanders, and the arrogant pazaak champion, stopped right in their tracks. Even Atton found himself turning to face the source of the voice. Jason stood flanked by Carth and a bar table. There was a kind of leader-like quality to his stance that Atton found himself listening to Jason’s words, as if it was an automatic instinct.  
“Why are you picking a fight with my friend?” he calmly addressed the pazaak champion.  
The man growled. “Your “friend” cheated me.”  
Jason turned to face him. “Atton turn out your pockets,” he stated casually, as if he was asking to borrow his blaster temporarily.  
Reluctantly, Atton pulled everything out of his pockets. There was not much in there, his extra pazaak cards, a two day old kath hound sandwich, and a small gold wedding band.  
His friend smiled at the person, “See, no skifters. It was obviously a mistake.”  
The champion glowers, but leaves, punching his fists at the thin air. The rest of the crowd disperses, and Atton can here sighs from some of the bystanders who were obviously itching for a fight.  
“What the heck were you doing?” Jason asked, now that the crowd had all gone back to their own activities.  
Atton shrugged. “I beat him in pazaak and he took offense to that.”  
“Just be more careful ok. I’m not going to be able to bail you out next time.”  
Atton almost laughed. As if he would ever need to bailed out of any problem. In fact, he had struggled to restrain himself, and not unleash his full fury on that man and the other bar patrons, as annoying as they were, they did not deserve that much pain.  
Aloud he said, “Sure, fine.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Bastila shifted nervously in the barely four feet that makes up the holding cell, that was really a cage. She was able to sit, and stand, but nothing more. Worse yet, she had no weapon, because the Vulkers had immediately confiscated her lightsaber. Fortunately, the Black Vulkar did not recognize that she was a Jedi, and a well-known Jedi that the Sith would gladly receive as a bribe to loosen up their tight hold on the Tarisian underworld. They had surprisingly believed her story about being a simple Republic officer who had bailed from the Endar Spire during the battle. However, they were intelligent enough to keep her restrained with a neural collar. A minor stinging nuisance in Bastila’s mind, the larger problem was how she was going to escape. While she could easily remove the collar with the force, it would alert the small group of Vulkers guarding her that their prisoner was escaping, and worse yet, it would brand her as a Jedi. Moreover, with a world that no doubt under Sith occupation, she could not afford to take any chances. Therefore, she had no choice but to wait for the day of the big swoop race she had overheard her guards discussing. Out in the open, she would easily be able to overpower her guards and escape. Then, well she would cross that bridge when she got to it. Bastila sat, carefully avoiding running into the cage’s walls, and began to meditate, the only thing she could do in this dicey situation.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Jason Archer sweated profusely under his used dress pants and white collared shirt that he had purchased at Shaniqua’s Emporium. Sarna had not explicitly stated that this party was a formal dress event, but he figured that it would not hurt him to make a good impression on both Sarna and her fellow Sith. That way, they would never suspect that this seemingly benign young man was actually a Republic soldier desperately searching for information that would lead him to Bastila Shan, the most wanted person on the planet.  
Just as he reached the walkway bridge that lead to the east side of the North Apartments, a figure darted out in front of his path. It was Atton. “Hey,” he stated. “I just wanted to say, be careful.”  
Jason stared. From the short time in his acquaintance, Atton had given off the aura of a weary, but high-spirited gambler, who served himself first and his allies next. “Thank you,” he replied. “I won’t be long.”  
“Take this,” Atton pressed a six-inch vibroknife into his hands. The blade was a little worn around the edges, but still usable as a weapon. “If things get rough at the party, you’ll need something to defend yourself.”  
Jason nodded, and stepped across the walkway and into the other side of apartments. Personally, he thought Atton was paranoid, especially where the Sith were concerned. However, it was too late for him to return the knife, and besides, if the Sith officers found out his identity, he would need it to make a clean getaway. He carefully, placed the knife in one of his brown calf length boots, and headed down the hallway in search of the party.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Atton’s mind was churning as he headed back to the apartment. Why had he felt the need to help Jason, who was essentially, a complete stranger? Sure, he owed him for “rescuing” him from that brawl with the so-called pazaak champion of the Upper City of Taris. Still, Atton had felt an automatic instinct to help and protect this man. There was also that hint of leadership in Jason’s walk, and commanding tone in his voice. Who was he? Atton shook his head. Jason’s strange behaviors did not matter, because as soon, they left Taris, he was going to leave this strange pair behind, and find a new hiding place in the galaxy, a place where the Sith would never ever find him.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
“There you are,” Sarna smiled at him as he entered the room. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever show up. The party’s already in full swing.”  
“Sorry, I’m late. I got lost,” Jason, admitted sheepishly. It had taken him a tedious amount of time to figure out what floor the party was taking place on. Thankfully, the raucous music had acted as a beacon for him, guiding him to the location of the party. The music was so loud that Jason figured that if the partygoers were not Sith, then the neighbors would have complained about the loud noise by now.  
She winked at him before leading him over to the makeshift bartender’s stand that had been set up. “Anyways, you should try the Tarisian ale, it’s fantastic. We should have taken over this planet a long time ago.”  
“Careful Sarna,” another one of the officers said. “This stuff can be quite potent.”  
Sarna giggled loudly, and handed a full glass of ale to Jason, before pouring a generous amount of the drink for herself. Jason sat next to her, and tried to politely listen to her rather humorous anecdotes about her childhood, but his mind kept straying to Bastila. Where was she? Had she been captured by the Sith? He hoped she was safe, for her own sake, as well as for the Republic. Jason spent the rest of the evening lightly flirting with Sarna, who seemed quite pleased to respond to him, and clearly desired to take their relationship farther. When she and the others finally all passed out from the ale, Jason stood up and yawned, stretching his tired limbs, cramped from sitting still in one spot for so long. As he carefully went through Sarna’s pockets, pulling out the Sith papers needed to travel to Lower City, he fought down a twinge of guilt. He needed these papers, if he, Carth, and Atton were going to find Bastila before the Sith did. He just hoped that Sarna did not get into too much trouble for losing her papers.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Carth nervously paced in the hallway outside the apartment hide out. While, there was a great risk that one of the patrols would recognize him as Carth Onasi, the great Republic war hero, he decided that it was better than the alternative, playing endless rounds of pazaak with Atton, who was clearly adept at the game. Carth never understood why many of the other men and women he served with during both the Mandolorian Wars, and this war, enjoyed playing games like pazaak that more often than not, ate up all of their hard earned credits.  
Carth typically spent most of his down time writing to his wife Morgana, and their son Dustil. Morgana, he could not think about the happy times, without getting the image of seeing her broken body, her blank brown eyes wide with shock. That he would never see her laugh or grin widely again. In addition, they would never get to watch their son Dustil grow up and excel in whatever career he chose, or watch as Dustil found the love of his life, and raised some rambunctious kids that he and Morgana could dote on and spoil.  
These thoughts inevitably led him to the man who had caused all of his suffering, Admiral Saul Karath, the man who led Malak’s armada into battle and was currently third in Malak’s chain of command. It seemed impossible at times that the same man had praised his piloting skills during the Mandolorian Wars and awarded him with the nickname “Fleet”. Carth snorted. Was there anything that actually made logical sense these days? The greatest heroes of the Republic, Revan and Malak, had turned against the very structure they had once vowed to protect, and everyone, even the Jedi Order, seemed powerless to stop them. And Saul Karath, had betrayed them. That was why he continued to support the Republic, as hopeless the situation now seemed. It was all that he had left from his old life.  
“Hey!” Jason had returned from the party, and had already changed back into his Echani armor. “Atton and I are ready to head down into the Lower City if you’re ready.”  
“What did you find out?”Carth asked, desperate for any information on Bastila.  
“All I found out was that Sarna’s from Bellassa, and she apparently is allergic to kath hounds.” His tone was both apologetic and crestfallen.  
Carth’s hopes plummeted all the way down into the Under City. Although no news on Bastila, meant the Sith had not yet captured her, it still left an unanswered question of her whereabouts. Was she even alive?  
“But I did manage to get a hold of these.” Jason proudly displayed a set of papers, which from Carth’s quick skim of them appeared to be a pass of some sort. “One set of genuine Sith pass papers, which is perfect, since travel into the Middle and Lower Cities is restricted to Sith soldiers and civilians the officials figure won’t make any trouble. And the Under City is locked down tight, only Sith patrols are allowed down there.”  
Atton emerged from the apartment, brandishing his blaster. “Hey, are we getting moving or what? It’s not like we have all day to find your friend.”  
Carth’s frown deepened. While, he couldn’t trust Jason, he trusted Atton even less. Aloud he replied, “We’re just about ready.”  
Jason nodded. “Let’s move out.”  
The trio walked calmly down the hall, so the other tenants would not be suspicious. They were just three harmless humans, going for a luxurious stroll in the Upper City. As they walked through the streets bypassing pedestrians and Sith patrols, Carth made out a ruined tower in the skyline. In spite of the massive destruction, the structure was still upright, and was intact.  
“What’s that?” Jason pointed to the ruined building.  
“That’s the Jedi tower that was built at the start of the Mandolorian Wars to protect Taris,” Carth explained. “Then the Jedi Masters assigned here killed their Padawans, and framed the one survivor. When the Mandolorians invaded, the Taris Resistance attempted to bomb the building to smoke out the invading Neo-Crusaders. It didn’t work obviously.”  
Jason nodded, but as they moved on, Carth felt memories of another more carefree time, back when he sent out false tornado alarms for fun. Moreover, of a brown haired determined padawan, Zayne Carrick. However, it wasn’t Carrick that haunted him the most; it was the question Carth himself had asked before he had taken the wrongly accused fugitive before Saul Karath “would you kill someone to prevent the future?” At the time, it seemed obvious to him that, no he could in good conscious kill someone in cold blood, no matter what his or her future was. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Would he have put a blaster to Saul’s head, if he had known the atrocities the man would perform in the future?  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Jason walked as confidently as he could, masking from even Carth and Atton, that he was absolutely terrified. What if the Sith stopped looked at their papers, and realized they were stolen? However, the Sith guard at the elevator to the Middle City had not even looked his papers, before allowing him and his companions, to enter the elevator. Now the guard at this elevator only briefly glanced at the papers before handing them back to Jason.  
“You’re all clear,” he stated, stepping by to let Jason and the others pass. “Just watch out for those flaming gangs. They don’t take orders from anyone.”  
Jason nodded and moved into the elevator. He took a deep breath as the elevator closed shut, and began shoot downward. He needed to let go of his worries, and keep a clear head if he and the others ever hoped to find Bastila.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Atton is fussed over, and there is some back tracking.

Jason figured out that the Sith guard was not jesting when he warned about the deadly swoop gang war, after only a few steps away from the turbolift. Several Weequays in gold and red armor stood off against a Biff and a Twi’lek attired in blue armor.  
“The Black Vulkars will win this gang war,” declared the biggest of the Weequays.  
“You’re wrong!” the Twi’lek yelled defiantly. “The Hidden Beks have more honor then you morons could ever hope to possess.”  
Both groups quickly produced blasters, and started shooting. The Weequay on the left fell with a thump to a blaster bolt, but the other two deftly dodged their opponents’ attacks. The Weequay in the middle quickly threw a gray circular object into the Bith’s face. The object exploded, and the Bith went down with a loud yowl. The Twi’lek aimed his blasters, but was quickly subdued.  
Just as Jason was wondering if they could risk running across the path and ducking in the nearest building, the two Weequays noticed the small party of humans. Without pausing, the pair turned and began to fire on the three of them. Jason ducked the spray of blaster bolts, hitting the ground hard.  
“Damn it!” he swore inwardly. While he had jumped out of the frying pan of deadly blaster bolts, he had jumped into the fiery inferno of being open to shots from both of the Black Vulkars.  
Suddenly, a deafening boom sounded a few yards away, pummeling Jason in the chest. He cautiously rolled over and stood, to view Atton, clutching his left shoulder with a determined look on his face. The two Weequays lay dead, their bodies smoking slightly from whatever Atton had thrown at them.  
Carth also sat up, and was for once lost for words. “How did you do that?” he asked his brown eyes wide in shock.  
“I threw a plasma mine at them,” Atton commented casually as if this was a regular occurrence for him. He produced a small collapsible rocket launcher. “With a little work, you can turn mines into projectiles. When you use them, mines become almost always fatal, because while you can dodge a grenade, a mine has bigger field of destruction, which means it will hit not only the target, but also everything in the vicinity around it.”  
Jason nodded, but could help feeling a prick of suspicion, that there was something strange about Atton. When they had first met, he had assumed that Atton was a lazy gambler/smuggler who just happened to be an excellent pazaak player. However, there was something more now, as if Atton not only killed, but also had enjoyed it. Jason laughed to himself. Now he was acting just like Carth, paranoid and seeing multitudes of threats where there was none. Besides, if Atton had killed before that would not make him much different from most civilians, considering that there had been two wars in the last decade.  
When he glanced back at Atton, he noticed that Atton was tentatively touching his left shoulder and was wincing. “Hey, let me look at that.”  
Atton attempted to shrug him off. “No, it’s ok. I’m fine.”  
“Are you sure?” Carth asked. “Because that wound looks like it hurts a lot.”  
“Honestly guys, I’ve had worse.” Atton clearly wanted them to get off the topic of his injured arm and get back to searching for Bastila.  
Jason shook his head. “We’re heading back to the Upper City.” As Atton was about to argue, he cut him off. “You need to have that wound looked at Atton before it gets worse. We can’t exactly find Bastila if we’re all on the brink of dying of our wounds.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Atton grumbled a little as they made their way back to the elevator. He could not understand why Jason and Carth were making such a big deal about his shoulder wound. Sure, it did sting a little, but Atton had suffered far worse back in the old days, before he had deserted. More humiliating was the laughter that the Sith guards at both checkpoints directed at him. Sure, he was shot, but he had survived, and taken out all the opposition as a bonus. In fact, he mined those creeps down in six seconds, which was a new personal record for him. Not that he would boast about the others, as they both kept unconsciously glancing back at him suspiciously. They suspected that something was off about him; that his down-on-his-luck smuggler persona was a ruse. Hopefully, they had not discovered his true past. Unconsciously, a soft voice reached into the forefront of his mind, “They’ll find out someday, you know. You can’t conceal this forever.”  
Atton shook off the ghostly voice from his mind. He would do everything to hide his past from the other two, until they had left Taris far behind them. After that, he would be free to go wherever he wanted, as far from the Sith and their war mongering as he could possibly get. Still, as they shot up through the turbolift back into the higher levels of Taris, he felt a shiver down his spine: the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
After breathing the sulfurous air, and confronting the raw violence of the Lower City, a part of Carth was relieved that they were returning to the Upper City, even though they faced further delays in locating Bastila. Carth quickly glanced back at Atton, who had fallen behind slightly, and was gingerly rubbing his wounded shoulder and wincing. Clearly, the wound harmed him more than he would admit. A part of Carth wanted to ask how he was holding up. However, he knew that his concern would not be appreciated. He encountered a fair amount of beings like Atton, tough no nonsense folks who refused to accept help from others and did everything by themselves.  
“Hey, are you all right?” Jason had caught up with him and was now walking along side him.  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he quickly replied. “I’m just concerned that we might not get there in time to be much help.”  
Jason smiled. “Don’t worry; we’ll get to your friend before you know it.”  
Atton suddenly turned and faced the pair. “Hey what are you slow banthas waiting for? The Republic will end by the time you get moving.”  
Carth fought the childish urge to roll his eyes at Atton, and followed the brown-haired smuggler into the brightly lit doctor’s office. The doctor, a dark skinned human sentient rushed over to greet them. Judging by his shabby white doctor’s coat, he was the type who cared more for spending money to cure his patients then on his own wardrobe.  
“Good afternoon,” he greeted. “I’m Doctor Zelka Forn. Are you ill? I can treat any infection except for the Rakghoul disease.”  
Jason dragged Atton, who attempted to subtly sneak away, over to the doctor. “Our friend was shot in the arm.”  
“Hmm.” The doctor produced a set of glasses, and carefully examined the angry red wound. “This does look quite nasty, although there’s no sign of the bolt, just pieces of shrapnel.”  
“So can I go now Doc?” Atton asked eager to dispel any attention to himself.  
Unfortunately, the doctor shook his head. “Luckily for you, all I need to do is remove the shrapnel, and stitch it up. I can also apply some local anesthesia, so the procedure should not hurt. I personally would not recommend leaving the shrapnel untreated, or you will have a full blown infection on your hands.”  
Atton sighed, and reluctantly nodded, giving his consent. “Fine, go ahead Doc, and cut me up.”  
The doctor moved to his desk and began to sterilize a metal operating tool as well as a needle and thread. Atton stood impassively as the doctor reached out with his surgical tools. Carth decided to focus his attention away from the operation and on the room, they were currently standing in. The doctor’s office wasn’t fancy, but was clean and in order, much like Carth would expect a doctor’s office to be. In fact, this room reminded him of the private clinic where Dustil was born. Shaking his head before his thoughts traveled into uncomfortable territory, Carth noticed a locked door that appeared to lead into another room.  
Cautiously, Carth edged towards the door, and pushed the release handle.  
“Wait! Don’t!” Doctor Forn yelled, but he was too late to prevent the door from sliding open, revealing several severely injured beings in kolto tanks. They clearly were other Republic soldiers. He finished sewing Atton’s cut shut, and deftly cut the trailing edge of the thread. “Please don’t tell anyone I’m hiding them.”  
“Don’t worry Doc,” Jason replied. “We’re not going to tell anyone.”  
Doctor Forn calmed down considerably, and began to explain. “People brought me them from the crashed escape pods from the battle. All of them are too injured to live, but at least I can make sure they’re comfortable.”  
Carth smiled faintly, his respect for Doctor Heron increasing in leaps and bounds. “Thank you Doctor Forn. It’s nice to know that some of these men fell into compassionate hands.”  
Doctor Forn nodded and smiled, before moving to shut the door.  
After a brief moment of awkward silence Jason spoke. “Um…Doctor Heron, you mentioned the Rakghoul disease. What is it exactly?”  
“Well, the Rakghoul disease is an infection caused by sulfurous air of the Under City,” Doctor Heron replied, clearly relieved to change the subject from the severely injured Republic soldiers. “The bite transforms anyone into mindless beasts known as Rakghoul. They feed on others, either killing them, or transforming them as well. Republic scientists were recently working on a cure, but then the Sith took over, and the commanders hoard the serum. They will only dole it out to their patrols that are going into the Under City. If only I could get a hold of the serum, I could wipe the Rakghoul disease from the face of Taris.”  
“I could sneak in to the military base and get it for you,” Jason suggested.  
Doctor Forn’s hazel eyes widened in fear, “No, it’s too dangerous. The Sith would catch you, and then we would both be arrested for treason. Please just forget I even mentioned it.”  
Jason sighed, but dropped the subject. “Do you have any medpacs I could buy?” he asked.  
Jason and Doctor Forn quickly negotiated a deal, and the trio waved good-bye to him, before exiting the medical center. Suddenly, the doctor’s assistant ran after them. “Hey! Are you the one who asked about the Rakghoul serum?” he asked excitedly, as if he had just won the lottery.  
“Umm…yeah,” Jason replied, confused.  
“Well, I’m Gurney, and I’ve got an offer you’ll want to hear. If you find the serum for the Rakghoul disease, Davik would be interested in receiving it, and distributing it to the highest bidder. In addition, he would pay you triple whatever Zelka could afford. “  
Carth snorted; this assistant was clearly the polar opposite of the compassionate, philanthropic Zelka Forn, a slimy, greedy worm. “Then he’ll only distribute it among the wealthy elites, and let the poor suffer, right?”  
“Or he’ll use it to control the poor and persuade them to do his dirty work for the serum,” Atton interjected. Carth nodded in agreement; Atton observed a point that was definitely in line with the Exchange’s policies.  
“Just think about it,” Gurney urged. “Give the serum to Zax at the bounty office if you change your mind.”  
“I’ll remember that,” Jason replied. “Good-bye.”  
Gurney smiled and waved triumphantly, obviously thinking that he had won Jason over to his side of things.  
“Don’t even think about it,” Carth whispered intently to Jason as they walked down the street.  
“Don’t worry,” Jason reassured him. “I wasn’t even thinking about it.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Aaron slammed his blaster down in frustration. He had searched high and low throughout the Upper City of Taris and had yet to find his target. He was on the verge of risking going down to the Lower City, when suddenly; he tripped over a medium sized body. A man, no more than thirty standard years old, lay in a pool of putrid vomit that Aaron guessed was excess juma juice.  
“Stupid filthy cheater,” the man grumbled, his words slurring slightly.  
“Who exactly, are you talking about?” Aaron asked, curious.  
“There was this guy who beat me and just about everybody else at pazaak. The bastard had to be holding skifters, or counting cards, or something,” the man replied, eager to vent about this frustration.  
Aaron flinched, several of the man’s words sounding similar to what his employer had described his prey’s personality: “counting cards”. “What did this man look like?”  
The other man sat up, and wiped the light spattering of vomit off his mouth. “Brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a jacket that might have been some kind of light armor, kind of, like what smugglers and experienced bounty hunters wear. If you see him again, tell him he’s dead for what he did to me.”  
Aaron chuckled lightly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, before the other man could react, he brought up his blaster and shot once, hitting the chest area. The other man fell over, back into the pool of vomit, killed instantly. As he pushed the man’s corpse into one of the many garbage disposal systems, he reflected that it probably was for the best that his informant was dead. While, the man was probably too drunk to have remembered the exchange, it was better that he left no potential trail leading to himself. Moreover, with the quarantine still in effect, it would only be a matter of time before he found his prey.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
After their hair-raising encounter with the Black Vulkars, Jason was somewhat wary of venturing back into the Lower City. Fortunately, they encountered no fighting gangs as they made their way to the local cantina down here. As they entered through the doors, Jason noted that the bouncer for this cantina looked like he had seen combat experience, in contrast to the bouncer of the Upper City cantina, a young inexperienced kid who had probably never fought a day in his life.  
He entered the cantina and intercepted an intense argument between two Rodians and female Twi’lek. The Twi’lek was young, probably about thirteen or fourteen, but Jason sensed that she was experienced in combat and would not appreciate his help.  
“I told you already to leave me alone,” she spat.  
“Little girl shouldn’t be hanging around a bar,” one of the Rodians muttered. “She should just pack up and go home.”  
“Fine, if you want to be that way,” the Twi’lek retorted. “Hey, Zaalbar! I have some insects I need for you to rip limbs off of.”  
Zaalbar, a tall Wookie standing at the bar counter, turned and roared in annoyance. “Not now Mission,” he grumbled. “They just brought me food.”  
“This will only take a minute,” Mission countered. “Besides you need the exercise.”  
Zaalbar moved to stand in front of the Rodians, who both flinched and stepped back. “We don’t want trouble with a Wookie,” the second Rodian screeched.  
“If you’ve got a problem with me, then you’ve got a problem with Big Z. So unless you want a fight, then I suggest you two greenies hop on out of here.”  
“Little girl lucky she has a big friend,” muttered the first Rodian. “One day, she might not be so lucky.” With that, the two Rodians ran away as fast their stubby legs could carry them.  
“Hi,” Jason greeted. “I’m Jason Archer, and this is Atton and Carth.”  
Mission turned warily, and assessed, relaxing her stance when she decided that they were not a threat to her. “Hi, I’m Mission Vao. You look like you are new to the Lower City, so I guess that makes Big Z and me your official welcoming committee. We’d give you a guided tour, but the streets aren’t exactly safe right now.”  
Jason smiled. Mission might be an adolescent, but she seemed street-wise and observant: the right person to go to for information.  
“So why do you speak Basic?” Atton asked.  
Mission shrugged. “A lot of aliens know Basic, but they prefer to speak in their native language. I grew up on Taris for most of my life so I got used to speaking Basic all the time.”  
“If you don’t mind me asking Mission, how did you and Zaalbar meet?” Carth inquired.  
“We joined forces, because it seemed that with my street smarts and his strength, we made a pretty good team.”  
After Carth and Atton quieted down, Jason turned to Mission. “So, what can you tell about the gangs?”  
“There are a lot of small gangs, but the Vulkars and the Hidden Beks are the two main ones,” Mission explained. “The Vulkars have been attacking the Beks and pretty much anyone they run into on the streets. That started when Brejik left the Hidden Beks took over the Vulkars.”  
“Brejik used to be a Hidden Bek?” Jason asked, confused.  
“He used to be Gadon’s second in command; after Gadon lost his sight in a swoop bike accident everyone assumed he would step down and let Brejik take his place. However, Gadon said he was not ready yet. That made Brejik angry so that two-faced bantha left to join the Vulkars and ever since then, the gang wars have heated up.”  
Jason had a feeling that this gang war was important, but he decided that he decided to ask another question. “What do you know about those Republic space pods?”  
Mission shook her head. “I don’t know much about that, but if Gadon probably knows more about it. Just go to the Hidden Bek base. They’re pretty open about letting anyone in there as long as you’re not a Sith or a Black Vulkar.”  
“Thank you,” Jason replied. “I guess I’d better get going if I want to speak to Gadon.”  
“Yeah, this dive is pretty boring anyways.” Mission grimaced for a moment before turning to her companion. “Come on, Zaalbar, let’s get going.”  
“But I’m hungry Mission,” Zaalbar grumbled.  
“We need to get going Big Z. You can eat when we get back to the Bek Base.” With that, she quickly left, giving her companion no choice, but to follow her.  
Jason took that as his cue to leave; as he and his companions left the cantina, he felt that there was more to that pair then met the eye.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Locating the Hidden Bek base was easy, but entering the base was a challenge. Jason attempted to sneak into the base, but was rebuffed by the door guard, a tough looking human woman.  
“Hold it! Where do you think you’re going?” she hissed, glaring.  
Jason smiled amicably. “I just need to speak to Gadon. I have a problem.”  
The door guard snorted and rolled her eyes. “Of course you need to speak with Gadon. He’s the hero of the all the common folk. However, the days of the Hidden Beks open door policy are over.”  
Jason suppressed the urge to yell; he knew he needed to stay level headed if he planned to be admitted to the base. “I’m not with the Vulkars or the Sith. I could be helpful against the many enemies circling you’re gang.”  
She frowned, as if she suspected that he was withholding the truth. However, she finally nodded and stood aside to let them enter. “Well, you don’t look like you’re with the Vulkars or the Sith. Besides, with how badly the gang war is going, we could use some extra help. However, you’d better be on your best behavior, or we’ll throw you out the hard way."  
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” Jason placated. Before she could retort, he pushed aside the double doors, and entered the base.


	5. Chapter 5

As the trio entered the Hidden Bek base, Atton noticed that several Beks of various species stopped to watch them as they entered. He instinctively knew that it would suicide to attempt to battle all of them, not even his own uncanny reflexes and luck would save them then. As they calmly sauntered past the gang members, the hairs on Atton’s back stood up like a startled nexu’s. He always possessed an uncanny sense of when he was in danger, and he instinctively knew that this situation had the potential to spin out of control.  
“You can try to suppress it,” a soft voice whispered. “Your ability will always be there, and using it comes as naturally as breathing for you.”  
“No!” he screamed back. “I’m not like that.” It was a never-ending battle, denying what she told him. No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, her voice always bubbled to the surface. Once again, he pushed the voice down and continued to walk across the room.  
Behind the desk stood a dark skinned human sentient, who had to be Gadon Thek. He definitely, had the build of a swoop bike racer, with a small build-up of muscle in his arms. His original eyes were replaced by milky white ocular implants. A yellow-skinned Twi’lek stood a few feet away, and hovered protectively over Gadon like an avenging sentinel.  
“Don’t get any closer!” she hissed.  
“Calm down Zaerdra,” he said placating. “I don’t think these offworlders mean any harm.”  
“You’re too trusting Gadon,” she chided. “Between the Sith occupation forces and the Black Vulkars you have many more enemies than you used to. For all we know, they could be assassins sent by the Vulkars.”  
Gadon simply shook his head. “And do want us to go attacking everyone sight, Zaerdra like the Vulkars do? Besides no one’s going to try kill me in our own base.”  
Zaerdra grudgingly nodded to the trio. “You may approach Gadon, but I’ll be watching you.”  
“I’m sorry that Zaerdra has become a little to overzealous in her security duties. With the Sith occupying the planet and the Black Vulkars waging an all out war against, things are far more dangerous than they used to be. However, Zaerdra seems to forget that I know how to look out for myself.”  
“I’m sure you do,” Jason replied, giving the only polite answer. “I was just wondering if you might know something about those Republic escape pods.”  
Gadon frowned slightly before replying. “The Sith also came inquiring about those Republic escape pods, but you don’t look like your affiliated with the Sith.”  
“They might be spies, Gadon!” Zaerdra interjected. “They might be working for the Sith.”  
Gadon shook his head. “If the Sith wanted something, they would have simply broke down the door and demanded it of us. No, I believe this offworlder has his own agenda.”  
Jason nodded. “We’re not with the Sith, but what we’re attempting to accomplish could very well help a lot of people.”  
Atton noted that Jason was telling the truth from a certain perspective, while concealing the details that the Beks did not need to know about. Frankly, Jason possessed far more leadership and strategizing than most common soldiers did.  
Gadon scrutinized Jason as if he sensed that he was withholding some information. “Well, the information won’t endanger anyone in my gang, but it cause troubles for the Black Vulkars, and that’s ok in my book. The Vulkars stripped all those pods clean, and they found a female Republic officer named Bastila. We Beks don’t believe in intergalactic slavery, but the Vulkars aren’t as picky.”  
“So what’s going to happen to her?” Atton inquired before he could stop himself. He definitely wasn’t a fan of Jedi, but on the other hand, he detested galactic slavery, and he could not suppress the feeling, the no one, not even a two faced manipulative Jedi deserved that fate.  
Gadon shrugged. “Normally, they would sell her to Davik or an off world slaver, but a Republic officer is no ordinary catch. Brejik is offering her up as a prize to the winner of the big swoop bike race. He hopes that through this, he can finally recruit all the smaller gangs to his side and destroy the Beks.”  
“Well,” Carth mused, choosing his words carefully. “Maybe she’ll be able to escape on her own. Or we can rescue her.”  
Gadon shook his head. “She’s too much of a prize for Brejik to leave her among the scum in his base. No, he’s probably got your friend hidden somewhere safe until the big swoop race.”  
“Well then, what should we do?” Carth whispered to Jason and Atton. “I mean we can’t fight all the gangs.”  
Jason’s eyes widened as a thought occurred to him, and he turned to face Gadon. “Would it be possible for you to sponsor me to compete in the swoop race?”  
“Perhaps,” he mused. “We both have something to gain here, and much to lose. My mechanics created a prototype accelerator. However, the Vulkars stole the accelerator and plan to use it to win the race. I need you to sneak into the Vulkar base and steal back. In return, I’ll allow you to race under the Hidden Bek banner.”  
“And how exactly do you propose we do that? It’s not like we can just waltz into the Vulkar base politely ask them to hand over the accelerator,” Atton retorted. He hated suicide missions, which was exactly what Gadon’s ‘deal’ with Jason sounded like.  
“Going through the front door would be impossible,” Gadon, concurred. “But there is someone I know who can get you through a back way, Mission Vao.”  
“Gadon, she’s just a kid,” Zaerdra scoffed.  
“Mission has explored every corner of the Lower City and she knows the Under City sewers better than anyone.”  
Jason nodded. “So where can I find her?”  
“She probably is down in the Under City with her Wookie friend Zaalbar; they like to explore down there in spite of the dangers,” Gadon replied.  
“We’ll be back when we have the accelerator,” Jason vowed a little too overconfidently in Atton’s opinion. While most of the Hidden Beks ignored them, he heard a couple of snorts. It was clear to Atton that the majority of the Beks believed that they would fail and die. However, that only kicked into gear the subconscious will within him to survive. They would retrieve the prototype accelerator, win the swoop race, and rescue Bastila. They just had to.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
While the Sith guard scrutinized the papers and stared at the trio in disbelief as if he was searching for an excuse to detain them, he finally sighed and handed the papers to Jason. “All right, you’re clear to go on down there. Just be careful, there are mutants down there, rakghouls they call them. If you spot anything moving down there, shoot first and ask questions later.”  
“Sure thing,” Jason replied, smiling as if the guard were a long lost friend from childhood. “Thank you very much for your help.”  
Atton snickered. “What are you doing?” he demanded, and Carth could not help but privately agree with him.  
Jason merely shrugged his shoulders. “I just figured it wouldn’t kill me to be polite.” With that, he stepped into the turbolift, giving Atton and Carth one option: follow him inwards. The turbolift lowered and arrived at their destination faster than Carth expected it to. Perhaps, the Lower City wasn’t as far removed from the Under City as the Upper and Middle Cities were. As they entered the Under City, Carth noticed that the beings here, possessed a hungry, desperate look to them, a look he had not observed since he helped evacuate the survivors off Telos. Instead of leaving the Outcast village immediately, Jason engaged some old man who was apparently the town crazy, which left both Atton and Carth in an awkward silence.  
“So? Where are you from?” Carth inquired to clear up the silence.  
“Corellia,” Atton replied. “My parents got divorced when I was a baby, so I never really knew my mom. I signed on to fight in Mandolorian Wars when I was eighteen, and my dad died not long after I joined up. I fought until the war ended, then I left the Republic Navy, and I’ve been traveling since then, and eventually arrived on Taris.”  
Carth wasn’t too surprised; Atton’s back-story was all too common these days. Young, brash adults joining the Republic Navy and being forced to grow up in ways that drove many adults insane. Yet, Carth got the feeling that Atton wasn’t telling the whole truth. However, he decided to let it go, since he instinctively knew that Atton probably would not reveal whatever it was he was hiding.  
“So where exactly are you from?” Atton asked.  
Carth grimaced; even now after three years, it was hard to talk about his homeworld. “I’m from Telos actually.”  
“Oh.” Atton briefly flushed red, before continuing. “I’m…uh…sorry.”  
Carth was shocked. He had expected Atton to shoot back that he had suffered a fair amount himself thank you very much, or just abruptly change the subject. What was most surprising was that Atton’s awkward apology rang more true than those who recited well-rehearsed speeches of “how sorry” they were for him. “It’s ok; I go where the fleet Admirals tell me to go, and I do what I can, but that doesn’t mean I failed them, I didn’t.”  
“Failed who?”  
“Nothing, it’s just what the Sith do. Rather the ones who defected from the Republic and joined them; the Dark Side has nothing to do with why they joined them. They deserve no mercy.”  
Atton’s face turned the color of curdled nerf milk, and his mouth opened wide as if he were a caught gizka.  
“Sorry if I scared you,” he quickly added. “I just tend to get a little riled up whenever the Sith attack on Telos is brought up.”  
Before Atton could muster a reply, Jason returned. “Well, guys, looks like we’ve got another job helping this old guy find his missing apprentice.”  
“At this rate we’ll never get off Taris,” Atton muttered under his breath. While Carth was all for helping others, as they followed Jason out of the gate of the village, he felt inclined to agree with Atton, something that bothered him.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
“Papers please,” the Sith guard stated in a bored tone. Aaron suppressed several curse words. While the guard in the Upper City had easily let him go down on the elevator, it was clear that the guard in the Middle City was picking up the slack. Fortunately, he had a back-up plan.  
“Here,” he replied, handing his contract to the imbecile.  
The Sith guard actually took a step back, and Aaron figured that his eyes probably widened in shock, as he recognized just who exactly he had stopped. “This is genuine?” he asked finally, as if anyone would dare to carry false papers allegedly signed by her.  
“I can contact her if you want,” Aaron suggested helpfully.  
“No.” The trooper quickly shook his helmeted head. “You’re free to pass, and good luck.”  
Aaron allowed himself to smile a little. This guard had shown him proper decorum, and fear; the reaction he would always receive if he accomplished his mission. He was far from the days, when the other younglings ganged up on him, due to his smaller size. He would capture his target and finally gain recognition, and no longer be the laughing stock of the bounty hunter guild.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
As Jason marched out of the gate, he reflected that it seemed like Taris was a planet full of problems, with the Rakghoul plague, the sith occupation, and the outcasts. He’d been surprised to find Carth and Atton chatting together. From his observations, both men did not trust each in the least, and Jason hoped this meant that Atton and Carth would put aside their differences and trust each other.  
“Yeah right, and Malak is going to ‘see the light’, and surrender, ending the war,” Jason thought sarcastically. Both Atton and Carth possessed serious trust issues, and enough baggage to weigh down a Gamorrean. The chances of the either of them genuinely trusting the other were slim.  
“Halt!” a sharp voice cut through his musings. A small patrol of Sith soldiers moved into view. “This is a restricted area civilian.”  
“I have our papers right here,” Jason replied, pulling out the pass.  
The Sith patrol leader nodded, “so are you the trackers command sent down to look for that missing patrol? Rakghouls are crawling around the area. We’ve actually run out of Rakghoul serum.”  
“Actually, we’ve been sent to retrieve Rakghoul serum they might have possessed,” Atton chimed in.  
“That makes sense,” the patrol leader replied. “Well, carry on with your job.” He marched off with the other two members of the patrol flanking him.  
Jason turned to Atton. “Retrieving the Rakghoul serum?”  
Atton shrugged. “It was the first thing that came to mind. Besides, when it comes to lying the best lies always have a bit of truth to them.”  
Although Jason silently agreed with him, he did not reply. Atton’s ego did not need to receive more fodder. They moved down around the corner from where the patrol had come from, and observed a small pack of Rakghouls right in there intended path. “Damn!” Jason swore under his breath. “I don’t suppose you’ve got anymore mines hidden under that belt of yours.”  
Atton checked his pockets, before shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m fresh out of mines, and I’ve only got two frag grenades left.”  
“That’ll have to do. Stay here, and wait for my signal.” Jason took the two frag grenades, and then activated his Stealth Generator. He slowly edged towards the pack, estimated the distance, and threw the first grenade. A second later, he fired the second one. Both grenades exploded in the midst of the pack, killing several Rakghouls. Unfortunately, four of the Rakghouls survived and ran towards him.  
Cursing under his breath, Jason lifted his stealth field and motioned for Atton and Carth, and then turned as the lead Rakghoul leaped towards him to strike, and fell dead at his feet from Carth’s blaster. He swiftly drew his vibroblade, just in time to give the second Rakghoul a searing scratch. It yowled, but continued to attack him. He hacked with the blade, bisecting the creature in two. For a moment, the upper part of the creature continued to writhe as if it intended to avenge its own slaying, but finally stilled. The other two had already neutralized the other two Rakghouls and turned to him. Jason moved down the slope to the corner, and encountered a slaughter. Several Sith soldiers lay sprawled on the ground: their uniforms stained with blood.  
Carth shivered slightly. “They must have been boxed in by the pack.”  
“So these beasts are smart and pack animals,” Atton mused. “That’s just great! So have you found the serum yet?” This question was directed at Jason.  
Jason shook his head. “No, but I found that guy’s apprentice, and her journal. It mentions something about a Promised Land. Sorry, guys, but it looks like we’re heading back to the village.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
“But I don’t even know where the Promised Land is!” Jason protested. He and the old man had been arguing for the past ten minutes and Atton was thoroughly tired of it. Unfortunately, this also gave him time to stew in the revelations regarding Carth. It was just his rotten luck that he ended up traveling with a guy who hated defectors to the Sith. Maybe not without some justification, but Atton’s mind chilled at the possibility that Carth would uncover his secret. Atton squashed those worries and tried to focus on the already tedious conversation.  
“You are marked Upworlder,” the old man declared. “Even my dim old eyes can see the mantle of destiny that cloaks you. Perhaps old Rukil knows you better than you know yourself.”  
In spite of the fact, that he doubted Rukil’s sanity, Atton sensed that his words contained a ring of truth to them. Jason was charismatic, smart, and resourceful. He wasn’t like most typical common soldiers, and small part of Atton sensed that there was something special about him. However, that did not stop him from tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for this boring conversation to cease.  
Finally, the pair wrapped up their conversation. “I’ll find the journals,” Jason vowed.  
“That’s all I ask,” Rukil replied.  
“So what do we have to do now?” Carth inquired.  
“We have to find the journals of both his father and grandfather,” Jason explained.  
Atton inwardly groaned, although he gave no sign of his frustration externally. They walked towards the gate and were briefly stopped by a dark skinned human sentient who appeared to be rather shady, which was odd since most of the Under City denizens seemed too miserable and focused on surviving to plot anything. Jason glared and the guy scampered off in fright. Hopefully, they could retrieve the journals, and then get back to Gadon’s job of stealing back the proto-type accelerator. Unfortunately, they were ambushed the moment they left the village.  
“Please you’ve got to help me or they’ll sell Zaalbar into slavery,” Mission yelled. “No one else will help me; even the Beks won’t help me. Please!”  
“Whoa, Mission slow down and explain what happened,” Jason gently soothed.  
“Zaalbar and I were just walking around, exploring the Under City looking for anything valuable. We do it all the time.”  
“Well I guess if you have a Wookiee around, you can figure that you can handle the odd Rakghoul attack,” Carth mused.  
“But they were waiting for us,” Mission continued. “Gamorrean slavers; we didn’t even have time to run. Big Z threw himself at them and roared for me to run. I thought he was right behind me. Please you’ve got to help me!”  
“Mission, we’re going to help you,” Jason reassured her. “But we also need your help. Gadon says you know a back way into the Vulkar base.”  
“Fine, you help me rescue Zaalbar, and I’ll show you the secret entrance into the Vulkar base.”  
“Where exactly would they have taken him?” Carth inquired.  
“The Gamorreans make their camps in the sewers,” Mission replied. “Now we have to find Zaalbar before they sell him to slavers or worse.”  
“What could possibly be worse than slavers,” Atton wondered to himself as Mission led them towards the sewers. However, they stopped as they encountered as a small group of salvagers. Most of them looked green and inexperienced. The one heading the patrol appeared to be the veteran of many battles judging by the multiple scars visible on his body. His left shoulder was embossed with a tattoo that marked him as a member of Clan Ordo.  
“Stop or I’ll…I’ll use my blaster on you,” one of the other men said, twitching slightly.  
“Settle down kid,” the Mandolorian chided. “We’ve already lost several men to the Rakghouls; we don’t need to suffer any more casualties in a needless firefight.” He turned towards the group. “It looks you’re here for the same reason we are, to salvage something from those downed Republic space pods. I’m going to give you a little advice: turn back.”  
“Is that a threat?” Jason asked, though he seemed more intrigued than itching for a fight.  
“Mandolorians don’t make threats we make promises.”  
“Canderous,” the man who spoke earlier interjected. “I hear something in the shadows. It sounded like a Rakghoul.”  
Just then, a herd of five Rakghouls raced out in the open towards the group. “Damn it!” Carth muttered under his breath.  
“Ready those blasters, boys!” Canderous calmly stated.  
Atton leaped, narrowly saving one of the men from a nasty Rakghoul bite. He slashed several times with his blade as the beast tried to avoid his attacks. Finally, he beheaded it. Three of the five salvage members were down apart from Canderous, who easily annihilated two Rakghouls on his own. Carth and Jason fought as a tag team, with Jason using his blade on the creatures, while Carth stood back and provided cover fire. One Rakghoul fell, but another crept behind and leaped towards Carth. It was too late to cry out a warning as it aimed towards its target. Splat! The Rakghoul hit the ground just an inch from where Carth stood. Atton turned. Canderous stood where the blaster bolt had originated with a calm expression on his face in spite of losing most of his salvage team. Carth gave Canderous a curt nod, a simple acknowledgement of thanks between two fighters.  
“Damn it!” Canderous swore, as he surveyed the two surviving members of his team. “Davik’s men aren’t trained for this sort of operation, and I can’t babysit them all. We’re leaving before we lose anyone else; I can’t carry all this salvage back by myself. I would recommend you leave as well. Even if you can handle the Rakghouls, I doubt there’s anything left worth finding down here.”  
“What do you mean?” Jason inquired.  
“Davik had me lead this motley crew down here to salvage anything we could from those downed Republic space pods, but the Lower City gangs got here first. Anything valuable is probably in their hands. Davik won’t like that.”  
“I hate to be the one to go out on a limb here, but who exactly is Davik?” Atton asked.  
“What are you an offworlder?” Canderous replied. “Davik’s a crime boss for the Exchange; you know the interstellar crime syndicate. Smuggling, gambling, extortion; Davik has cornered the market on the majority of illicit dealings on Taris. However, the Lower City gangs have been giving my boss some trouble lately. Take these escape pods for example. Everyone knew that Davik would want first crack at them, but I know for a fact that those damn Vulkars have already sent their own salvage team down here. Anything valuable from those escape pods in probably in their hands.”  
“Thanks, we’ll just leave now.”Jason spoke in a brief manner that was polite while refraining from employing the fake polite phrases many other sentients used.  
“Come on boys, let’s move out.” Without another word to their group, Canderous and his salvage team marched off, carrying the salvage, back towards the elevator and relatively safer Lower City.  
Quickly, the small group made their way across the desolate landscape before finally stopping in front of an open hatch. A rusted service ladder served as the access to the sewers.  
Carth took a tentative sniff, before grimacing and covering his nose. “Ew! That stinks!”  
“It’s a sewer system. What did you expect: a glittering, pure waterway?” Atton scoffed.  
“No,” Carth replied. “I’ve traveled through sewers before, but this place is just rancid.”  
“No one bothers to come down here to clean, since there’s the obvious danger of Rakghouls and the Gamorreans,” Mission explained. “So it’s not exactly the cleanest place on Taris.”  
“Well we’re not going to rescue Zaalbar if we stay here discussing how hygienic the Tarisian sewer system is,” Jason interjected.  
So one by one, the group descended the ladder into the dark, rotting filth.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Aaron grumbled to himself as he walked through the hallways of the abandoned apartment. He was no closer to locating his quarry, although he had engaged a small group of idiotic gang members in combat. They were called Black Vulkars or something like that. Either way they fell to his blaster. While the fight sated his desire for action, he still had not found his target. He chose this series of dilapidated apartment buildings because they were just the sort of place someone on the run from the authorities or bounty hunters like himself would hide.  
Just then, he came to a door that would not open. That immediately piqued up his senses. While he would not be surprised that people here in the Lower City had security systems to keep out intruders, he doubted anyone who actually lived in this dingy apartment complex could afford such a system. He quickly flipped open the door panel and gently crossed the wires, which sparked, forcing the door open. A woman with dirty blond hair stood in the middle of the room. She produced a blaster rifle and pointed it at his head.  
“Stop right there,” she demanded, brandishing the weapon. “Or I’ll give you a blaster shot right between the eyes. Now, what are you doing here?”  
Aaron put his hands up and cautiously stepped into the apartment. It was just as rundown as it appeared from the outside with some kind of mold growing in one of the corners. “I’m just looking for a man with brown hair, wearing a brown armor jacket.”  
“Well go look for him somewhere else,” she spat.  
Aaron repressed a smile. She was exactly like him: arrogant, dismissive of others, and deadly. “Maybe we can work something out.”  
“What exactly do you mean?” She cautiously lowered her blaster rifle, and gestured for him to sit on the couch.  
Aaron daintily sat on the moldy sofa that was probably new when this dump was constructed. “The man I’m searching is wanted by someone very powerful. If you help me capture him, I can get you off Taris. I’ll also mention your contribution to my employer, which could mean potential compensation or employment.”  
She nodded. “Fine, I’ll work with you. But you make one false move or alert the authorities, and I’ll shoot you dead.”  
“Fair enough,” he commented. As the pair left the apartment, Aaron reflected that he would not hold up his end of the bargain. Not when there was the potential to collect whatever bounty there was on this woman in addition to whatever reward he received from his employer. Yes, he would gain renown in the bounty hunter guild for his treachery and skills at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and review. I enjoy getting feedback on my stories since it helps me improve as a writer.


	6. Chapter 6

Jason gagged slightly; the air down in the sewer was rancid, there was no other way to put it. The concrete tunnel floor was covered with bones and slimy mucus. A short tunnel led to a junction of two paths, both twisting and turning out of sight. While Jason had not spotted any of the Gamorrean jailers, he did not doubt that they lived here. Only, they were would dare to survive in a place so uninhabitable.  
“Something tells me this place is a maze down here,” Atton muttered behind him, and Jason privately agreed with him. If the sewers were as massive as the cities above they could spend, hours down here and never find Zaalbar.  
“Mission, which way would be the shortest way to where they’re holding Zaalbar?” Jason inquired.  
Mission turned left and right, her eyes squinting as they adjusted to the dim lighting of the sewers. “The first path’s the closest one that will lead us right to the front gate of their little hideout, but they’ll see us coming if we head that way. The second path is longer, but could be utilized if you want to do a sneak attack.” She glanced nervously at Jason as she finished, clearly thinking that a man at least two decades her senior wasn’t going to take her advice.  
Jason smiled slightly. While Mission was young, she had a basic knowledge of tactics, and could navigate the sewers easily. No wonder the Beks’ leader had suggested that he bring her along. “We’ll take the longer way, and move slowly in case they have a security system installed.” He doubted that, Gamorreans weren’t known for their intelligence, and very few beings were reckless enough to risk exploring the sewers. Still it was better to be safe than sorry. “Atton, could you take the shorter path, scout out how many enemies, and then catch up with us?” He phrased this as a question, because Atton wasn’t technically part of the team and could veto any of his orders.  
Atton nodded. “I’ll meet up with you in about fifteen minutes.” He switched on his Stealth Generator and literally melted into shadow, surprising Jason. While Stealth Generators were fairly common and easy to procure, Jason recalled many would-be thieves being busted because they thought themselves invincible when wearing them. Not Atton, who crept across the sewer tunnels so slowly, that Jason could not discern his exact location. At Jason’s signal, the group turned right and continued down the long sewer tunnel.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
As Atton crept down the sewage tunnel, he oscillated between pride in using his rusty, but not forgotten skills, and confusion. There was something about Jason; his stance was that of a leader, and Atton found himself unconsciously obeying his orders. Yet, when Atton casually inquired about his position in the fleet, Jason replied that he was “only a scout”, recruited into the Navy for his tracking skills and knowledge of languages. Jason was talented in linguistics, surpassing even Atton, who encountered many different species in his previous vocation. However, he decided to put his suspicions regarding Jason aside, after all, he really had no right to prod into Jason’s past considering his own and the fact he planned to leave the group as soon as they left this Force-forsaken cesspit of a planet.  
The tunnels twisted and turned, finally opening into a square shaped sewage deposit. This area in particular stank of mildew, vomit, and several other nauseous smells. Five Gamorreans patrolled the room, and Atton noticed that an old-fashioned cell door led into a dark room beyond. Four of them were armed with axes specifically constructed for their species, and from their stances received only a bare minimum of training. The fifth, however, held a vibrosword, a one and half hand blade that most sentients would struggle to keep a grip, but that the Gamorrean held with ease. Moreover, the creature’s stance indicated that he had received some kind of training, perhaps as a security guard, prior to his current situation. That was going to make things a little dicey.  
By the time, he rendezvoused with the group; they were engaged in a debate.  
“No offense Jason, but you’re going to need all the help you can get. The mission is far more important than for us to help some crackpot fool find the “Promised Land”.”  
“Carth, I promised him that I’d get him these maps, and I intend to follow through on my word,” Jason’s expression was steadfast and determined. “I need Mission to guide us to the secret entrance into the Vulkar compound, and Atton is the expert on stealth. Besides, I trust you more than I trust Atton to deliver the journals safely.”  
For several moments, the duo glared at each other, and then Carth finally sighed, admitting defeat. “Fine, I’ll get these journals back to the old man, and I’ll meet you back at the Bek base. Just be careful, I wouldn’t put it past Atton to backstab you and dish you out to the Vulkars.”  
Atton chose this moment appear, turning off his Exchange Stealth Castor. Carth flinched; clearly, he had not expected his commentary to be overheard by the mentioned party, but Atton really did not care about people’s opinions of his character. At least, that is what he told himself. “Well, I scouted out the area, and their five of those pigs guarding the cell. Four of them aren’t going to be a problem, but the fifth one, who’s probably the leader, appears to have received some form of specialized training at some point.”  
Jason nodded in gratitude. “Thank you, Atton. From the appearance of the situation, the best course of action is to sneak in and take them out. Mission do you have any kind of explosives on you?”  
Mission nodded. “I’ve got several frag grenades, and one poison grenade.”  
“All right, I want you to split what you have with Atton, when we move into attack I want you both to sneak in, while in stealth mode of course, and throw what you’ve got at them. That should take out a couple of them, and make it easier to defeat them.”  
Mission nodded, eager to prove her mettle, while Atton allowed a barely discernible smirk to grace his face. The group split, Carth carefully maneuvering back to the ladder and egress from this cesspit, the trio cautiously moving forwards. The tunnel twisted and escalated upwards, before finally reaching a small corridor that lead to a room, if the chipped stone depression counted as a room. Four Gamorreans patrolled the room, their eyes alert for intruders. The fifth stood in the center with an inherent seniority. Atton glanced at Mission, who wordlessly handed him two frag grenades. The pair simultaneously turned on their stealth generators, and cautiously crept towards their targets. Carefully they aimed and threw their grenades into the midst of the Gamorreans.  
One…Two…Three…Boom! The pigs squealed in shock, as the grenades exploded around them. One Gamorrean fell dead immediately, and two more were badly burned by the grenades. Unfortunately, the leader had managed to side step the oncoming assault and escaped injury all together.  
The pair turned off their stealth generators and raced to meet their foes. Atton leaped, and bisected one of the severely injured ones. Mission in spite of her small size was quite agile in dodging the second Gamorrean’s attack, and quickly stabbed him with her own vibroblade.  
A slight warning sent Atton tumbling backwards, barely dodging the Gamorrean leader’s cleaver. Out of the corner of his vision, he noted that Mission was engaging the other Gamorrean, easily parrying the blows of his axe with her blade. He quickly turned his attention back to his own battle. He feinted, but the Gamorrean anticipated this, and swung his cleaver against sword, disarming him. Atton dived past the Gamorrean’s assault, and instinctively reached for his blade. It flew to him; he stabbed the Gamorrean, who grunted in shock, before falling down dead.  
“Wow, I didn’t know you could do stuff like that Rand,” Jason stated appreciatively.  
“I’ve had some Echani training,” Atton admitted. That was true; the forms were a mandatory portion of his training as an assassin. While some of the others had whined and complained about fighting without armor, Atton secretly enjoyed it. The forms just came naturally to him. However, he shied away from the thought of how he acquired his blade; it probably was closer than he anticipated.  
Fortunately, Jason chose to drop the subject. He turned to Mission, who finished off her opponent. “Mission, do you think you could slice open that door over there and let your buddy out?”  
Mission gently, placed her blue hands on the lock and fiddled with it slightly. “This is one of those old style locks, so I can’t slice into it. The sewers on Taris are pretty much the only place you can find them. However, I’ve got a little device that should get the lock open.” She produced a small rock shaped device from one of her pockets, and inserted it into the lock. With a little more fiddling, the lock slid open with a click. A massive Wookie emerged from the cell. Although, his fur was somewhat bedraggled, he appeared to be all right.  
He roared something in his language; while Atton did not comprehend the Wookie language, the tenor of the words indicated relief.  
“I’m glad to see you too Big Z,” Mission replied. “I promised I would never leave you behind.”  
Zaalbar responded with what was probably a query.  
“These are my friends Zaalbar.”  
“Nice to meet you Zaalbar, I’m Jason Archer,” Jason introduced. “And this is Atton Rand.”  
Atton nodded in greeting, and then proceeded to zone out the rest of the conversation. He couldn’t understand half of it anyways. At least, until he heard the words “life debt.”  
“Wait what?” he asked, knowing he sounded like a moron.  
“Big Z’s swearing a Wookie life debt to Jason,” Mission clarified. “This is huge!”  
“Isn’t that some kind of loyalty vow?” Jason queried.  
“A life debt is the most solemn vow a Wookie can make. Whatever you and wherever you go, Big Z will be right behind you.”  
“Better him than me,” Atton thought. It was not because he had anything against Zaalbar. He just hated the idea of someone stalking him for the rest of his life. As the others plotted how they were going to defeat a rancor that apparently lived next to the entrance to the Vulkar base, Atton reflected that it was going to be hard to leave these people, who against the odds, he’d befriended. No scratch that, it was going to impossible. However, Atton comprehended that leaving was for the best; as long as he stayed, his friends would be in danger from the Sith, or worse, ‘her’.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
As Carth made the long trek back to the Outcast village, he pondered on his new companions. Atton, obviously, possessed a checkered past, and a part of Carth screamed not to trust him. However, he hadn’t sold them out to the Sith, and picked his portion of the work. Therefore, Carth decided to let go of his suspicions of Atton for now. Besides, Atton planned to split with the group the moment they left Taris and arrived on another planet, so his speculations wouldn’t matter anyways. Mission, in spite of her youth, was intelligent and a scrapper in a fight. However, Jason was the strangest of his new companions. Jason, whose orders Carth found himself following, even though he technically outranked and was more experienced than the other man was. Carth shook off these thoughts like excess water as he arrived at the Outcast Village. He needed to focus on the task, without ruminating on his companions. He guarded his expression as he walked past the shady storeowner, so he wouldn’t suspect that he carried the precious maps.  
The old man stood as if he unconsciously sensed Carth’s presence. “You have returned, without the marked one and the others.”  
“Yes I have, and I brought you the three journals you seek.”  
The old man feverishly glanced at the journals in awe, and then nodded in thanks. “Yes these are the journals I searched for. Thank you Upworlder. I must show these to Gendar, the leader of this village.”  
The old man approached the dark skinned man who was obviously the leader of the Outcasts; the animal skins that he was attired in weren’t as frayed, and there was a slight confidence to his stance, a confidence that he could at least make the fates of his fellow villagers a little better. Although at first, Gendar dismissed the old man’s comments, his expression quickly changed as he perused the journals.  
“Are these true, Rukil?” he demanded of the old man.  
“Gendar, I swear on my life they are,” Rukil replied.  
“If you are right, the entrance is miles from here.”  
“I don’t deny that the journey is arduous, but it is far better than the fate we are currently cosigned to.”  
“Wise words, Rukil,” he mused. “Our supplies are high, we could leave right now.”  
“Don’t listen to him!” the shopkeeper screamed. “It’s all lies to get to us to leave the safety of the village!”  
“Shut up Igear! Rukil’s done more to help the village than you ever have!” one of the Outcast women retorted.  
Several other Outcasts chimed in with their own comments, and it became clear very quickly that Igear wasn’t popular among the fellow villagers. He lied and manipulated his way into his position as a “merchant”; people may have tolerated him in the past, because he helped earned credits, but they all abhorred his methods.  
“Enough,” Gendar interrupted the others. “Everyone, Rukil has uncovered a path to the Promised Lands. If you wish to risk the journey, pack what you have, we are departing immediately. If you wish to stay, then stay. No one will hold it against you.”  
Nearly all the Outcasts scattered to their makeshift tents to begin the difficult task of deciding which of their belongings to bring along on the journey and what possessions to leave behind. Although, Igear glared at Carth for a couple of minutes, he quickly realized that everyone else planned to embark on the mass exodus and scrambled to pack up his own belongings. Within about half an hour, the entire village departed out the front gate, into the unknown wilds of the Undercity.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Although Jason was confident in his abilities, that confidence plummeted the moment he caught his first glance at the rancor; it was massive, almost as tall as its practice court size pen. Fortunately, the beast was facing the tunnel that led to the Vulkar base, and hadn’t noticed the group yet. “Damn it! I don’t suppose there’s an alternate route to the Vulkar base.” Mission shook her head. “Yeah, I figured just as much,” he continued. “All right boys and girls, we need a way to get around the rancor and enter that base, so if anyone has any brilliant ideas on how to accomplish this objective, I’m all ears.”  
Atton held up a vial and a beat-up data pad. “According to this data pad, some scientists developed a synthetic odor that would attract the rancor to it. So we could use this to control the rancor.”  
With that kernel of information, an idea began to formulate itself in Jason’s mind. “Atton, I want you to use you’re stealth generator to sneak over to that pile of chewed up animal corpses, and see if there’s any grenades there. If there is, plant the vial and back away fast. If not, come back here, and we’ll think of something else.”  
“Worse comes to worst, we could always backtrack to the Bek base and see if anyone’s willing to part with a couple grenades for a few credits,” Mission chipped in.  
Atton nodded and melted into the shadows with the vial. Mission tiptoed to stand next to Zaalbar who’d remained quiet during the entire discussion; although he’d only been in the Wookie’s presence for a short time, Jason quickly realized that Zaalbar wasn’t particularly verbose, and would not speak up unless he genuinely had information to contribute to the discussion. In some ways his personality complimented Mission’s, who was a bit of a chatterbox.  
A few minutes later, the rancor charged to the pile of corpses and scooped up some of them into its maw. Several explosions emanated out of its mouth, and creature keeled over onto the concrete floor. Jason resisted the urge to high five the others. “All right guys, now we’ve got to fight our way through the base and steal back that swoop accelerator.”  
“Hate to interrupt, but I think I may have found something important in that corpse pile,” Atton interjected, before producing another vial.  
“Is that, what I think it is?” Jason held out a hand, and received the vial from Atton. The liquid inside was a gooey green, almost the same shade as the rakghoul’s blood. “Atton, we’ve found the rakghoul serum.”  
Mission cheered jubilantly, and Zaalbar roared softly in appreciation of this momentous occasion. Jason allowed himself to smile a little. Finding the serum was the boost of confidence this group needed before entering the Vulkar base.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Atton scowled as the group made their way through the Vulkar base. Fighting through the droids and Vulkar gang members was tedious but easy, especially with Zaalbar in their group. The sight of a roaring Wookie terrified even Atton, who was relieved that Big Z, as Mission referred to him was on their side. He expected there to be a straightforward free for all fight to grab the accelerator. Therefore, it came as complete surprise when the Twi’lek Vulkar they were fighting disengaged and knelt in submission.  
“I surrender,” he stammered out. “I am not one of Brejik’s new Vulkars.”  
“What do you mean?” Jason inquired.  
“I was a Vulkar back when it meant something, back when we had honor.”  
Mission snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”  
“There’s always been some rivalry between the gangs, but it was all friendly competition mostly. Then Brejik and his cronies took over and changed all that. They hunted the Hidden Beks and anyone who got in their way. To add insult to injury, they demoted all of those who were originally part of the gang. I used to be a high-ranking lieutenant. Now, they’ve put out here to “guard” this room.”  
“That must have been humiliating for you,” Jason stated sympathetically.  
“I can’t leave, because Brejik says he won’t allow any ‘traitors’ to live. That piece of bantha fodder shot a guy who wanted to retire to spend more time with his grandchildren.”  
“I’m looking for a stolen prototype swoop accelerator; do you know where it might be kept?”  
“The other Vulkars keep their swoop bikes and other equipment downstairs. I’m not allowed down there, obviously, but there is a set of barracks down the hall. One of the others may have a key card that will shut down the gun turrets that guard the turbolift.”  
“Thank you,” Jason replied. “You’ve been more than helpful.”  
The Twi’lek smiled slightly, before moving to leave. “I’d better leave before the others figure out I helped you.”  
“I guess we’d better get that key card from those Vulkars in the barrack,” Atton commented.  
“That’ll be fun,” Jason joked.  
Atton and Mission laughed, and even Zaalbar rumbled loudly with a sound that was his equivalent of a chuckle.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
The fight in the barracks was intense, but they all emerged relatively unscathed, and were able to make it to garage where the accelerator was. However, Jason instinctively knew that the Vulkars guarding the accelerator would be high ranking, and would rather die protecting it than face the wrath of their leader Brejik. Still, he had to try. Deep down inside, a part of him instinctively needed to give them the choice to surrender. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to have received the memo. To add insult to injury, the official actually offered him a position among the Vulkars if he helped them.  
“Don’t listen to that piece of bantha fodder!” Mission hissed.  
She did not need to worry; Jason did not intend to go back on his promise to Gadon. “Sorry, but the honor I’ve received working with the Hidden Beks means more to me than your filthy credits ever will.”  
With that, he shot one of the bodyguards in the corner, who immediately fell to the floor. Atton ducked past the Twi’lek and crossed blades with the other bodyguard. Snick, Jason barely managed to block a strike from the female Twi’lek. As she moved for another strike, he feinted, and managed to slide the blade into her chest.  
“You won’t get away with…” Kadon, the head guard hadn’t finished his declaration, before Zaalbar joined the fray and proved why Wookiees were talented fighters.  
Mission, who had wisely stayed out of the fighting, darted up to Zaalbar and began examining him for injuries. While Zaalbar grumbled a little, he allowed her to continue her work. In fact, Jason noted that their relationship was almost sibling-like.  
Jason was about to grab the swoop accelerator when Mission gripped his wrist tightly.  
“Wait, there’s a mine I’ve got to deactivate,” she explained. She did something with the floor. “There, now it’s safe to go get it.”  
Jason stepped cautiously forward and grabbed the accelerator into his hands. Fortunately, there was no self-destruct mechanism on the device. “We got what we came for, so let’s hightail it back to the Bek base.”  
“No arguments here,” Atton commented. “I’ve seen enough of these Black Vulkars to last me a life time.”  
The trek back to the Bek base was uneventful, and Gadon was ecstatic that they’d managed to return the accelerator. It wasn’t until after, he’d finished talking with the Hidden Bek leader, that he remembered the serum. “Mission, do you have a pass to go into the Upper City?”  
Mission shrugged. “Not really, but I’m pretty sure I can sneak past the check points.”  
“Do you know where Zelka’s medical facility is?”  
“Yes, I sometimes go there for free healing, why?”  
Jason weighed his words before continuing. “I have a certain vial that could help a lot of people in need. I just need it to be given to Zelka. Can you do that?”  
If Mission had any doubts to her suitability, she betrayed none of them on her face. “Sure, if it will help people than I’m all for it.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Mission cringed. It wasn’t the trip into the dull and boring Upper City that bothered her. The trip up the garbage dumps to Zelka’s medical facility was easy, with the highlight Zelka’s glee when he identified the vial as containing the serum for the Rakghoul disease. No, it was the corpse she’d stepped on the way down the garbage dumps. It was clear his blood stained chest that he was shot in the chest and probably died instantly. However, this did nothing to lessen her macabre discovery. She moved past the corpse and climbed up the ladder back into the Lower City streets.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Atton struggled to verbalize something to Jason before he left for the swoop race. It did not help that he spent the night tossing, and turning, his dreams plagued by shrouded figures. “Good luck” sounded rude, as if Jason was going to need luck. “May the Force be with you” was not appropriate considering neither of them were Jedi. “I’ll get you a hit of juma juice to celebrate your victory,” he said.  
That prompted a smile from Jason. “I’ll hold you to that.” He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but then decided against it. Atton watched as Jason turned the corner and walked calmly towards the swoop race that would determine all their fates.  
“So, there’s view screen of the race at the Bek base, and I can get you both good seats,” Mission offered.  
“Sure, that sounds good,” Carth replied.  
“I think I’ll pass,” Atton stated. When it got down to it, only through pazaak was he able to center his mind. Therefore, he said his good-byes and left. As he walked back to the cantina in the Lower City, Atton felt the hairs on his back stand up. He ducked, barely dodging a blaster bolt, only to face a blond haired man, with a vibroblade.  
“Well, look who we have here,” he crowed. “Atton Rand. Electra’s been looking for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for that cliffhanger at the end. I'm still working on Chapter Seven at the moment. As always please take some time to read and review. I love getting feedback.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes perform a certain mission, and a certain bad guy makes an appearance.

Atton suppressed his urge to swear. Just when he assumed he was out of the woods in regards to his old boss in the assassins, this idiot showed up. Fortunately, the blond guy was obviously a third rate bounty hunter. Atton dived, pulled out his blaster, and shot.  
The blond guy staggered back, clutching his chest. While Atton missed most of the man’s vital organs it was clear he had done some damage, judging by the scarlet blood dripping down the man’s shirt.  
Slash. Atton barely dodged an attack by the second assailant. Instinctively, he kicked, causing the woman, to lose her balance. He barely got to his feet, before she attacked again, slashing a shallow wound on his arm. He dodged her next strike, before stabbing her right in the greaves where the upper and lower portions of her armor joined. She swallowed in surprise before falling to the ground like a wall that thought itself invincible.  
Atton crawled toward the man, attempted to hit him, and wildly missed. “What does she want?” he whispered.  
The man simply laughed between coughing up blood, aware of his captive audience. “You know what she wants. She will find you and make you pay for your desertion.” He twitched once and died.  
Atton swore under his breath. All the idiot had done was confirm his worst nightmares. Electra Lazuli was hunting him.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
The gathering in front of the view screen was awkward considering that Carth was older than the majority of the viewers and an offworlder. While, none of them reacted hostilely to his presence, no one attempted to befriend him either. Mission decided to plop down next to him on the worn out sofa, and began regaling him about all of her exploits in the Lower City. He mostly just smiled and nodded at the appropriate places of the one sided conversation, while his mind wrestled back and forth with uncertainty. Carth hated being helpless; it preyed on his mind that the future of the entire Republic depended on the swoop racing skills of an unknown scout. Moreover, it brought back the terrible memories of the attack on Telos, the toxic air that sent him into coughing fits, cradling his wife’s broken body as she expired before the medics could assist them.  
“Hey, earth to Carth, are you listening to me?” Mission asked. “You look like you’re miles away.” For a fourteen-year-old, she was surprisingly perceptive. Not surprising, since she was a street kid.  
“So, do you have any family apart from Zaalbar?”  
“No, my parents are dead, and I don’t have any other family on Taris apart from Big Z.” She smiled at Zaalbar, who growled softly in acknowledgement. Carth observed that the Wookie treated Mission like a younger sister; someone who annoyed him occasionally, but whom he watched over protectively.  
“Wow! Your friend just got the best time for a swoop bike ever!” Another swoop fan, a young human male cheered.  
Suddenly, the vid screen began to ripple with static, before going out completely. A chorus of outraged fans screamed their displeasure, even as Carth jumped up and raced out of the room, with Mission and Zaalbar hot on his heels.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“So you’re telling me you know nothing about him?” Atton concluded. The “authorities” arrived shortly after he finished off his opponents. Fortunately, they let him go considering he was “defending” himself. That was law enforcement down here, useless and sitting in the pockets of both the various gangs and the Exchange. However, one of them provided the name and location of Motta the hutt, the manager of the bounty hunter office and an information broker in the Lower City. The odds were good that either of his assailants worked with, or were known by the broker.  
“Aaron Larsen was a third rate bounty hunter, there isn’t anything worth knowing about him,” the hutt replied. “I could track down any of his contacts, for an additional fee.”  
“No thanks, I’m good.” He had already parted with twenty credits just to get this paltry reply. At least, he managed to collect the substantial bounty on the woman, who turned out to be a mercenary.  
Suddenly, a young black haired human male raced into his path. He could not have been more than ten standard years old. “Excuse me sir.”  
“What?!” Atton yelled. After the terrible day he experienced, he was not in the mood to deal with beggars.  
“An older man told me to inform you to meet back at the base and that the ‘situation is under control but we need your help’.”  
“Tell him I’m on my way, just had to take care of some business.” He knew that he should just ‘disappear’ into the streets of Taris. It would not be fair to bring trouble upon his new allies. However, he felt that he owed Jason, and that he was a person worth following. It was something he had not felt since he defected to the Sith right after Malachor V.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Winning the swoop race was as easy as fighting, Jason discovered. It was almost as if an unseen force was assisting him in maneuvering his bike faster than the competition. In fact, it only took two heats to race the winning time, fortunately, because he felt the bike’s accelerator whine slightly at the end of the second heat. It probably would have exploded if he raced a third time.  
All the other swoop racers who were not Black Vulkars clapped and cheered for him. The other Hidden Bek racer high-fived him enthusiastically. He zoned out during the announcer’s speech about honor and glory, waiting patiently for Bastila to be released from her cage so they could get out of here, and rejoin Carth and the others.  
Suddenly, Brejik, the leader of the Black Vulkars entered from the opposite door onto the swoop platform. “People, this swoop rider cheated by using an illegal accelerator on his swoop. Therefore, the Vulkars are withholding the prize.”  
Jason suppressed the urge to yell that Bastila wasn’t a prize to given away, she was a person.  
“Brejik,” the announcer protested. “You are violating the sacred traditions of the swoop races.”  
“Screw your sacred traditions,” Brejik spat. “I could sell this woman on the slave market and no one could stop me!”  
“I might have something to say about that Brejik,” a soft alto voice echoed. Bastila freed herself from her cage and punched her guard, knocking him out cold.  
“What? This is impossible! You were restrained by a neural disrupter!”  
“You underestimate the strength and fortitude of a Jedi’s mind Brejik,” she scolded him as though he was a churlish pupil. “It’s a mistake that you sadly won’t be able to rectify.”  
“Vulkars to me!” screamed Brejik. “Kill this woman! Kill this swoop rider! Kill them all!”  
“Good luck!” the other Hidden Bek swoop rider tossed him a blade, before joining in the mass exodus of mechanics and swoop racers. The room was bereft, apart from himself, Bastila, Brejik, and Brejik’s top followers. Bastila grabbed a two bladed vibrosword from her former guard and successfully fought against a couple other guards on her own. Observing that she could handle herself in combat, Jason immediately slashed his weapon at the Black Vulkar swoop rider who did not have the intelligence to vacate the premises like his mechanic sensibly did.  
Clang! Unfortunately, the racer either procured a blade from someone or broke the swoop race rules, and concealed a weapon on his person. Jason suspected it was the latter. He barely blocked an attack from his opponent, and the blow sent a shock wave throughout his entire body. Jason feinted and his opponent took the bait. He then abruptly moved, staking his blade through his opponent’s chest. Blood cascaded out of him, and the swoop racer’s eyes widened in shock. Jason pulled his blade out of the dying body, which flopped around for a few seconds before finally stilling. Bastila finished off the two guards and now clashed against Brejik; Jason observed that neither side was gaining ground, although he suppressed a wince, when a strike from Brejik hit a little too close to her body for comfort. He noted an opening and dove in, slashing wildly at Brejik. Unfortunately, the man must have noticed in his peripheral vision, for he easily parried all his strikes, and suddenly, Jason found himself on the defensive.  
Suddenly, Bastila’s blade stabbed through the man’s mid-section, sending Brejik tumbling to the ground. The man swore and still attempted to attack them in spite of his fatal injuries, but Jason was prepared and knocked the man’s vibroblade from his hands.  
“Damn you!” he screamed. “The Black Vulkars will see you pay for this! This war isn’t over!” He barely finished delivering his declaration before he died.  
Jason turned to Bastila, a question on his lips, when the world spun away from him. It was the same woman, Bastila he realized, clashing with the Sith. She parried the strikes, before launching a counter-assault that breached her opponent’s defense and ended the duel. Just then, the Republic officer in front of her began to gasp and choke, before his neck broke and his body fell to the bridge floor. Several other Jedi knights raced up to help Bastila defend against a masked figure clad entirely in black.  
“Revan,” his mind supplied the name.  
“You cannot win, Revan,” Bastila declared.  
“I’d like to see you try Shan,” a cold, dark voice whispered in Jason’s mind. Revan maneuvered his light saber into a ready stance.  
Suddenly, the ship in the background started firing rapidly in their direction. Scorching, hot heat hit the bridge, blinding it temporarily. When the smoke cleared, Bastila scrambled up from where she’d fallen, and approached the masked body.  
When the vision dissolved, Jason was on his knees. Bastila towered over him. “Are you all right?”  
It seemed ridiculous that she was more concerned about his safety. She was the Jedi with the special talent, vital to the war effort against Darth Malak, whereas he was a replaceable common soldier.  
“Am I all right?! You’re the one who was in danger!”  
“It was brave, but somewhat foolish for you to come here. Brejik and his men would have killed you if I hadn’t intervened.”  
Jason struggled to keep his anger in check. “Look we need to get back to Carth, he’s probably worried about both of us!”  
“Carth Onasi sent you?” she inquired.  
“Yes,” he replied. “And we need to get out of here before the Sith show up.”  
Bastila seemed pensive about this new piece of intel. However, she quickly nodded, indicating that she comprehended his words. “Perhaps you are stronger than I first thought. Forgive me. In spite of my Jedi training, I sometimes speak brashly. We need to get to cover, and rendezvous with Carth.”  
They did not speak at all the entire trek back to the abandoned apartment.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“What the hell happened to you?” Carth’s voice was tinged with shock. Under different circumstances, Atton would have felt happy to know that the soldier cared what happened to him.  
“It’s fine,” he replied. “I just got into a scuffle in the Lower City.”  
“Well, you should probably wash and clean those wounds,” Carth advised. “The last thing you want is for them to get infected.” With the lecture completed, he settled down into a chair.  
Glancing into the mirror, Atton understood Carth’s shock; his jacket of protective armor was soaked in blood. Fortunately, said armor was machine washable, although the machine was ancient and appeared as though it would break down from the pressure. Hopefully, it would become defective long after he left the planet.  
When he re-entered the main room of the apartment, an argument seemed to be underway between Carth and a brown haired woman who must be Bastila.  
“That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way to address your commanding officer, Carth. My battle meditation has helped hold the line in this war.”  
“Your talent may help you win battles, but it doesn’t make up for lack of experience,” Carth scoffed.  
“Shut up, both of you! Bastila, Carth does have a point that you need to work better with others. And Carth, I know you’re frustrated, but I know that you are capable of respectfully disagreeing with your commander.” Jason said all this in a calm, but hard voice. One that cut through the bantha shit into the heart of the problem.  
“I’m sorry ma’am,” Carth stated, as though he were out of practice apologizing to superior officers.  
“You’re right, I’m sorry too Carth. The past few days have been rather…tense for me. Of course I’m happy to listen to whatever you suggest.”  
“First of all we can’t get hung up on who’s in charge. We need to focus on finding a way off this planet.”  
Atton held up hands mockingly. “I’m not the one who was whining about it.”  
“Atton, we don’t time for this!” Jason scolded.  
“I’m just saying,” Atton replied.  
“One of the locals may have a way to get us off this planet. We should probably start by asking around in the cantinas,” Bastila suggested.  
“Excuse me, but I think I have a way we could get off this planet,” Mission spoke, aware that everyone in the room was older and more experienced. “Davik’s flag ship, the Ebon Hawk, might be able to outrun the Sith fleet.”  
“The only problem would be that Davik has a huge amount of security guarding it,” Atton pointed out. “I’m not discounting your theory Mission, but it will take a lot of work to pull it off.”  
“We could always ask around about it. There’s bound to be someone who may have a way for us to get to the ship,” Carth said.  
“Yes that does sound like a great idea,” Bastila said. “Between our various skill sets, we may be able to pull this off.”  
“Don’t you mean luck?” Atton asked.  
“There is no luck, there is only the Force.”  
“I hate to say this, but you three should probably stay here,” Jason pointed to Bastila, Atton, and Zaalbar.  
“What?!” Atton screamed.  
“Carth told me you got into a fight on the way here, so you need some to rest, and heal up,” Jason explained.  
“Fine, but that doesn’t mean I have to like this.”  
“Come on, Carth, Mission, let’s go get some intel.” With that, Jason departed with Mission and Carth flanking him.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“Serious though Carth what is your problem with Bastila?” Jason asked. “Is it because she’s a woman?”  
“No! One of the best fleet admirals I know is a woman. It’s just that she’s so young.”  
Jason nodded. That did fit with what he’d observed about Carth before.  
“Excuse me,” a green skinned Twi’lek interrupted. “Are you the man who won the swoop race?”  
“No! And get out of here!” Carth yelled.  
“Hold on, let’s see what he wants,” Jason cautioned. While he did believe in being cautious, Jason also felt that Carth went seriously overboard and his lack of trust in people bordered on paranoia. “If I am, what’s it to you?”  
“Canderous Ordo would like to meet you in the Upper City Cantina. I wouldn’t keep him waiting. Mandolorians are not patient.”  
“Thank you,” Jason replied, tossing the man a couple of credits. “Looks like we have a meeting to get to.” With that, he took off for the cantina without checking to see if Mission and Carth followed. He noted that several people gawked at him; inevitable, considering he was the swoop champion of Taris.  
Canderous sat at a table, but Jason sensed that he was primed to jump into battle if he needed to. “So you’re the Taris swoop champion now? I have a proposition for you.”  
“That depends on what is Canderous of Clan Ordo,” Jason replied in Mand’oa.  
Canderous almost jumped out of his seat. “It has been a few years since I’ve heard my people’s language spoken. Tell me, where did you learn it from?”  
Jason shrugged. “Here and there.”  
“As you probably already know, I work for Davik Kang and Exchange. However, lately my boss hasn’t been paying me my cut of money like he promised to in our contract. So I’ve decided it’s time to break the quarantine and escape this planet.”  
“With the Ebon Hawk?” Jason queried.  
Canderous didn’t answer that question. “First, we need the launch codes, if we’re planning not to get blown to smithereens by the Sith fleets auto-targeting system. Davik was having Janice Nall custom build an astromech droid that can penetrate the outer defense of the Sith military base. Just tell her Canderous sent you and she’ll sell you the droid.”  
After Jason translated for his companions, Carth had a few choice questions. “And how do we know that you’re not going to double-cross us and take the Hawk for yourself?”  
“Because we’re going to hold him at his word to not betray us. Besides, he can’t fly the Ebon Hawk, co-pilot and operate the laser turrets at the same time. He needs us just as much as we need him.”  
“Breaking into a Sith military base will be hard, but I’ve face tougher odds before,” Mission declared.  
“Actually, Mission, I have another job for you,” Jason said apologetically. “Go to some of the merchants and stock up on as many medpacs as you can.”  
Mission looked like she wanted to argue, but then clearly thought better of it, and dashed off to carry out his orders.  
“I’m going to wait at Javyar’s Cantina,” Canderous interjected. “Meet me there once you have the codes.” Then he strode out of the cantina, with confidence as though he dared anyone to try and attack him.  
“All right,” Carth said. “Let’s go buy that droid and break into the Sith base.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“So do you want to play pazaak?” Atton asked, although Bastila guessed he was mostly asking to be polite. When she’d tried to probe his mind he’d requested through gritted teeth that she not do that “Jedi stuff”. Zaalbar seemed content to sit and stare at the apartment walls, but she was bored.  
“There really wouldn’t be much point, seeing as I don’t have a deck of my own,” Bastila replied. She hadn’t seen anything in his mind, but there was something about his force signature that was familiar. “Where are you from?”  
“If you want the short answer, I’m from Corellia,” Atton replied. “If you want the long answer, I’ve lived in a lot of places.”  
“Have you ever lived in Talravin?” She didn’t remember meeting, but maybe her abilities subtly recognized, even though her mind was too young to capture a memory of meeting him.  
“No, I’ve never even heard of the planet before. Why do you ask?”  
“No reason in particular, you just seem familiar.”  
“Really, I was about to say the same thing about you.” Atton grinned. “You know I could teach how to play pazaak. Since you might not have learned it growing up in an isolated monastery.”  
“I may be a Jedi, but I do know how to play pazaak,” she retorted.  
“All right then, show me,” he challenged.  
“Gladly,” Bastila replied, and as Atton divided his deck in half, she felt happier than when she’d first stepped aboard the Endar Spire weeks before.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Acquiring the droid was easy, however they immediately faced a dilemma when they entered the Sith base. A yellow skinned Twi’lek woman began yelling at them.  
“Look, here’s twenty credits, don’t press the alarm.” Luckily, Jason was very quick at trying to regain control of the situation.  
The Twi’lek woman smiled and murmured some words that Carth couldn’t understand before darting out the main door. After that, he focused on fighting the various waves of Sith troopers they ran into. Jason was talented, able to pull a victory even when they outnumbered. He also seemed to instinctively know where their enemies’ weak spots were and exploited them. As yet another Sith trooper fell dead, at Jason’s hands, Carth wished that he could trust Jason. After all, they wouldn’t have gotten very far without him. Unfortunately, all these unusual skills made him want to trust him less.  
Just then, they arrived in a room with a bunch of de-activated cells. The Duros who helped them the day before stood, clearly exhausted with blood dripping from a gash on the top of his face. “Greetings, do you remember me from the apartment?”  
“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry to see that they got you.” Jason really did appear sympathetic to the Duros’ plight.  
“You could mess with those panels over there and turn them all to red to free me. However, be careful not to accidently turn them all to green?”  
“What happens if we do that?” Carth inquired, not liking this man’s tone.  
“If you turn them all to green, then I will be executed.” He spoke casually as if they were discussing the weather instead of his fate. Maybe, he preferred a quick death to rotting in that tiny cell. Carth didn’t blame him in the slightest. Meanwhile, Jason carefully fiddled with the panels until they all turned red and the cell walls powered down.  
“Thank you,” the Duros said as he emerged from his cell. “I’m getting as far away from this base as I can.”  
“Ok, our next stops the armory, but there’s a couple of squads of Sith troopers in the way. T3, there’s a decommissioned assault droid through that door. I want you to repair it, and send it ahead of you. Meanwhile, Carth and I will take the other path.”  
Carth nodded. “That makes sense.”  
T3 chirped his agreement, and glided off to complete his task, while Carth and Jason took the longer way. Unfortunately, when Carth stepped through the door he was immediately enveloped by a gas mine. “Shit!” he swore, coughing hard. Jason was looking a little sick, but he fortunately escaped the worst of the effects. T3 and his assault droid friend were already making quick work of the soldiers on the other side.  
“Here, take an antidote pack.” Jason tossed him a green package.  
Carth carefully injected it into his wrist, and slowly began to feel a little better as the healing pack hit his bloodstream. Jason was dueling two of the Sith officers. Carth carefully aimed and shot down one of his companion’s opponents. Jason dodged another blow and finished off the last guy. T3 rolled up and hooked himself into the mainframe. After a few moments he said something in binary.  
“Damn,” Jason muttered. “T3 says there’s an assault droid between us and the turbolift to the lower level. Do you think you can shut it down?”  
There was a beep in the negative.  
“Maybe see if you could take out its shield, I don’t want to have to waste time burning that out with continual fire.”  
The droid clicked and seemed pleased with himself. Carth resolved that he would get a universal translator, since out on the Rim there weren’t a lot of people who spoke Basic. Besides, two of his current companions did not speak Basic, and utilizing Jason as a translator would only slow things down.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Everything went smoothly. They collected the weapons and armor from the lockers, and with Carth covering his back, Jason was able to take down the assault droid with only a few scrapes to show for it. However, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the worst was yet to come. It was an odd sort of sixth sense that awakened when he escaped from the Endar Spire, and seemed to send him visions and cryptic feelings. Maybe he should ask Bastila about it; she was a Jedi, she might be able to explain what was wrong with him. For now, he needed to focus on the mission. It was when they stepped off the lift, that they faced the problem. The “problem” was a short, bald man who turned to face them.  
“Who dares to disturb my meditation?!” he bellowed. “Wait! I sense the Force swirling within you. Who ever thought that another Force adept could be found on this backwater planet. This is a stroke of luck for me. My master will surely reward me with my lightsaber when I kill you.”  
The man began choking Carth and Jason slashed at the man to free his friend. Unfortunately, the dark sider blocked and pushed him back with the Force. At that moment, T3 joined the fray and tried to stun their opponent. He arched his hand up and called lightning down, frying T3’s circuits. Jason attempted to stand but was only pushed down again. Carth bravely shot at the man, but he managed to block most of them.  
Suddenly, Jason instinctively reached out a hand, and pushed the Force adept off his feet. Carth zeroed in and shot their opponent multiple times. The man twitched for several minutes before stilling. Jason got up, and grabbed the datapad that contained the launch codes, and then checked on T3, the droid was damaged, but could hopefully be repaired.  
“Jason?”  
“Yes?” he replied.  
“Next time let’s bring Bastila or Atton with us, so we don’t get our asses handed to us.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Bastila made her mind that she wasn’t getting left behind this time. She was sick and tired of waiting around in this dingy apartment, Jedi code be damned. Mission worked on repairing T3, who sustained heavy damage from the dark Jedi’s force lightning.  
“I’m coming with you,” she declared to Jason. “Or I could stay here and accidently demolish the apartment.”  
Jason glared at her for few moments before sighing. “Fine, but we need something to disguise you.”  
That something turned out to be a blue jacket with a hood. It covered her hair, and put her eyes into shadow. Even still, she held her breath as they passed through the turbolifts into the Lower City. The Mandolorian waited at a noisy cantina and smiled ever so slightly when he noticed them.  
“I hear the Sith had a military break in,” he announced casually.  
“Here are the launch codes,” Jason replied. “Now what’s the plan?”  
“I’ll tell Davik you’re interested in working for the Exchange. He’ll have you visit his estate while he runs some background checks. That’s standard procedure.”  
“And that gives us an opportunity to steal the Ebon Hawk,” Atton noted. “That’s an impressive plan.”  
Canderous ignored him. “I’ve got a speeder that can take us to Davik’s estate, now.”  
Bastila interrupted. “Actually, would you mind if I borrowed the speeder after you arrive at Davik’s. To pick up everyone and bring them to where the Ebon Hawk is.”  
Canderous looked like he wanted to argue, but Jason quickly cut in with, “Yeah, that does sound like a great idea, Bastila.”  
“Fine, let’s get moving.” Canderous stood, and everyone followed him out to his speeder.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Malak stood on the bridge of the Leviathan meditating. Not to bring peace, the way Jedi once taught him, but to focus on his anger and hate. Both are useful tools that will aid him in winning this war. He tried not to think of what this planet meant to him. It’s the place where he met Zayne, someone who was once his friend.  
He can feel Admiral Karath approaching. The man is a talented tactician, an area that Malak freely admits he is deficient in. However, now it is his skill that will be needed. “The search for Bastila is taking too long. Destroy Taris.”  
“But Lord Malak, Taris is a defenseless planet. We’d be slaughtering countless innocent civilians. Not to mention our own men still on the surface.”  
“Your predecessor once made the mistake of questioning my power,” Malak stated. If Karath could fire bomb Telos, then Taris should be easier.  
“Of course, not my Lord Malak, but it will take several hours to position our fleet.”  
“Then I suggest you begin immediately. You are dismissed, Admiral.” He turned and continued to meditate, to prepare for what was to come.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes finally escape Taris, and head off to Dantooine. Plus, you get an appearance from a certain someone from the Kotor comics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Between having issues with my laptop, writer's block, and working on other fics, it took awhile. Now, on with the show!

Atton admitted privately that Davik’s compound was impressive, and well-guarded. It wasn’t going to be easy to steal the Ebon Hawk from this place. Davik was an old, wrinkly skinned human, but he was an old wrinkly skinned human with strong purple armor and the look of someone who would get his hands dirty if he needed to defend himself.   
“So Canderous, you’ve brought someone else. This is unusual; you usually work alone.” Davik's tone was mild, but he seemed curious at this new development.   
“It’s not like you to take on partners Canderous,” taunted the short Calo Nord. “You’ve gone soft.”  
“Watch yourself Calo!” Canderous retorted. “You may be the new kath hound in the pack, but you aren’t top dog yet.”  
“Enough! I won’t have my top two men killing each other, that’s not good business. I’m sure Canderous has an explanation for why he isn’t working alone.”  
“I have someone the Exchange might be interested in recruited.”  
“The swoop racer who won the race, and came out on top of the heated battle afterwards.”  
Jason nodded. “It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle sir.”  
“With your credentials and a recommendation from Canderous you could join the Exchange easily. Many would kill for the honor you are being offered.”  
“I guess if depends on what kind of job we’re talking about,” Jason admitted. “I’m also curious about how you run things around here.”  
“Tell you what, I’ll give you a tour so you can see for yourself.” Davik slapped Jason on the back. It wasn’t a hard slap, but Jason still winced. The tour led them through the throne room past the spice processing lab, and into the hanger where the Ebon Hawk was stored. It was small, but agile, and a part of Atton itched to sit at the controls and see how fast she could go.  
“Ah, the Ebon Hawk, my pride and joy. Note the state of the art security system I’ve installed to protect. No one can steal my baby. The Ebon Hawk is the fastest ship in the Outer Rim, but even she isn’t fast enough to dodge the auto targeting lasers of the Sith fleet. I am of course working on obtaining the departure codes, so that I may come and go as I please, but we should continue our tour.”  
They ended the tour in the guest quarters, with Davik rambling on about how they had all the creature comforts even though they were still prisoners.   
“I’m looking forward to working with you Davik,” Jason said with a smile on his face.  
“Come Calo, let’s leave our guests in peace.”  
“All right we’re in,” Canderous stated once Davik and Calo left and shut the door behind them. “So let’s get started.”  
“We should probably check out the slave quarters Davik mentioned, they may have some info,” Carth suggested.   
Jason nodded and they set off to the slave quarters. There were several female and one male Twi’lek all dressed in outfits that did not leave much to the imagination. They smiled when the group approached yet Atton instinctively felt that they were merely resigned to their dismal fates as slaves in Davik’s estate.   
“Do you have any info on what’s going around here?” Jason asked a yellow skinned Twi’lek.   
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”  
“If you give me info, I’ll say you did well with your duties.”  
She smiled slightly. “Praise from the guests is a high commodity around here. While we aren’t allowed to leave this complex, we do hear some things from the other guests. Lately they’ve been talking about poor Hudrow.”  
“Who’s Hudrow?” Jason inquired, gently encouraging her to continue her story.  
“Hudrow is the pilot of the Ebon Hawk. He was caught stealing spice from the lab. Normally, he’s allowed to get away with things like that, since he’s Davik’s personal pilot. However, with the blockade, Hudrow’s not getting any special treatment. He’s locked up in Davik’s torture chamber.”  
“Thank you for the info, I’ll be sure to let Davik know that you performed your duties well.” With that the group left, although Canderous complained that he could do with a massage ‘to help with these aching wounds’. Fortunately, Jason distracted him by asking about his past, something Canderous was willing to reflect on.   
“So you mentioned you’re from Corellia, have you ever thought of going back there?” Carth asked.   
Atton shrugged. “I’m a different person now. Besides, I don’t have any family left. My father died of a heart attack not long after I enlisted to fight in the Mandolorian Wars.”  
“I’m sorry, it never occurred to me that we were in the same speeder so to speak.”  
“It’s fine,” Atton replied warily. Although Carth seemed friendly, Atton knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if he uncovered the truth about his past allegiances. Fortunately, conversation ground to a halt as they took on several torture droids. Carth and Canderous provided cover fire while Atton and Jason went in close to hack and slash down the droids with their blades. By the time, both droid collapsed, both had several light burns embossed on their bodies. Jason quickly turned off the torture field freeing Hudrow.  
“Thank you,” he said. “You have no idea what it’s like to be locked in that torture field for so long.”  
“I couldn’t just sit back and watch you suffer,” Jason stated.  
“I don’t have any reward to offer you,” Hudrow replied. “At least nothing tangible. But, I have intel that could be worth a fortune. I know the passcodes to disable the security around the Ebon Hawk. Sell it to the highest bidder; ransom it back to Davik. Either way, you’ll make thousands of credits.”  
“You should probably leave before Davik figures out you’re free,” Carth suggested.  
“Thank you for your help,” Hudrow said before leaving.  
“We got what we came for,” Canderous declared. “We should get going.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Canderous was confused. Jason knew the language of his people, and yet he clearly wasn’t a Mandolorian. There were some Jedi who learnt the language during the past war, but they only managed to acquire some curse words and a few basic phrases. Plus, Jason wasn’t a Jedi. It was an enigma that he yearned to solve.   
They entered and the hanger and not surprisingly encountered resistance in the form of Davik Kang and Calo Nord. Canderous’ respect for his employer went back up slightly. At least, they could be counted on to give them a good fight.   
“Damn those Sith!” the crime lord swore. “They’re bombing the whole planet! I knew they’d turn on us! What do we have here? Thieves in the hanger? So, you thought you steal my ship and leave me high and dry while the Sith turn the planet into dust! Sorry, but that ain’t going to happen!”  
“I take care of it for you it Davik,” crowed Calo. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”  
“Make it quick Calo,” Davik instructed. “The Sith mean business. If we don’t get to our ship soon, the bombs they’re dropping will kill us all.”  
Jason and Atton raced forward to face the two men, while Canderous and Carth provided cover fire. Canderous relished this return to real combat, with his fate on the line. He noted that both Jason and Atton were agile combatants, both dodging their respective opponents’ attacks.   
Suddenly, Calo stood poised with an explosive. “Don’t take another step or this thermal detonator will blow us all to bits!” Both Jason and Atton cautiously backed away. Just then, turbo lasers shot the upper catwalk, causing the structure to collapse on Calo and Davik in a shower of dust. Canderous breathed a sigh of relief; the issue of Davik seeking revenge for walking out on his contract was resolved.   
“Let’s get moving before this whole hanger comes down on us,” Canderous declared.  
Canderous’ speeder slid gracefully into the hanger and landed. The brown haired woman jumped out along with the T3 droid, a teenage blue skinned Twi’lek and a tall Wookie. Canderous was surprised that the woman appeared to be a proficient pilot. They all carried baggage, and made a beeline for the Ebon Hawk. Canderous, Carth, Atton, and Jason met them in the middle and quickly boarded the vessel. The Twi’lek and the Wookie buckled into a couple of the seats in the mess hall/main hold, while the others dashed down the corridor to the cockpit.   
“I’ll be flying us out of here,” Carth declared, and no one argued with him. Bastila slid into the co-pilot seat, and buckled up. The Ebon Hawk’s ramp pulled up with a whoosh, and the ship took off with a whirl, narrowly dodging several of the auto-targeting cannons. The departure codes, that Carth typed into the ship’s system appeared to work. Now they needed to avoid being captured by the Sith fleet, and make the jump to hyperspace.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
The yellow skinned Mirialan known as Electra Lazuli stood some paces behind Lord Malak. To witness the annihilation of Taris from this honored position was exhilarating. Smoke billowed up as many of Taris’ skyscrapers caved in on themselves. The fact that the bombardment also solved a rather vexing dilemma of hers was a bonus. Atton Rand, the maverick renegade, ceased to be a security risk with his demise. Moreover, she didn’t need to pay that pathetic wannabee bounty hunter Aaron, who presumably also perished.  
Saul Karath, commander of the Sith fleet, walked in apprehensively, as though the procedure bothered him. “Taris, is defenseless against our assault Lord Malak. They are offering up no resistance. The city is in ruins.”  
“Resume the bombardment Admiral,” Malak declared. “Wipe this pathetic planet from the face of the galaxy.”  
Admiral Karath nodded and proceeded to relay the order to the rest of the fleet.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Carth swore as he noted that several fighters were on their tail. “We’ve got some fighters we need to shake off.”  
“Quickly! To the gun turrets!” Bastila ordered Jason and Atton. “You have to hold the Sith fighters off until we can get those hyperspace coordinates punched in.”  
Both men raced down the tilting corridor as Carth maneuvered the ship so she’d at least avoid the worst of the laser’s damage. Jason climbed up while Atton climbed down into the other gun turret. Jason reached out and focused. At first, it seemed that fighters moved far too fast for him to score any hits. However, he noticed a pattern, and followed it, taking out two of the fighters utilizing this method. Both fighters exploded, taking their pilots to cold graves. Atton took out three and tag teaming, both men were able to bring down the other fighters. Just then, Jason felt the lurch of the hyperdrive as the Ebon Hawk made the jump to light speed. He let out the breath he’d been holding in a whoosh of relief.   
When he climbed out of the turret control and made his way to the cockpit, Bastila and Carth were arguing.   
“Are you kidding about being safe? The Sith fleet flattened Taris. There wasn’t a building more than two stories high left standing!” Carth yelled.  
“Even the Sith would think twice before attacking Dantooine,” Bastila countered. “There are many Jedi here, including several of the most powerful masters of the Order. There is great power in this place.”  
“I agree with Bastila,” Jason said. “We need to rest and regroup.”  
“Watching the annihilation of a planet isn’t easy,” Carth admitted. “I know Mission must be taking it hard.”  
“She will find the strength to cope with what is to come, she’s stronger than she looks,” Bastila replied. “When we arrive on Dantooine, I will need to speak with the Jedi Council. You’re free to look around but try to stay out of trouble.” She directed a look at Atton.  
Atton held up his hands beseechingly. “Hey, I’m no fan of the Jedi myself, no offence, so I’ll be happy to keep my distance for as long as we’re there.”  
“Bastila, could we talk privately for a minute?” Jason inquired.  
Bastila looked confused. “Sure, Jason.” The pair walked down the corridor, past Mission, who was staring blankly ahead, while Zaalbar gently murmured soothing words to her. They turned right past what appeared to a med-bay, and entered a cargo hold with several storage containers.  
“Is it normal to receive visions?” Jason asked. “I saw you fighting Revan when we first met.” He left out the part where it felt like he was the dark lord of the Sith.   
Bastila appeared taken aback by his query. “I’m not sure, such visions are normally a sign of Force sensitivity. It’s possible that the heat of the battle allowed you to view an intense moment from my past. However, I believe any theories about you should be discussed with the Jedi Council.”  
Jason wasn’t convinced that she was sharing everything with him, but decided to drop the topic. Later that evening, Carth surprised everyone by managing to use the food synthesizer to produce some edible food. Carth waved off the complement. “I learned to wrangle with these hunks of junk to impress someone a long time ago.”   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
While Bastila was skilled in battle meditation and combat, even she admitted she was woefully behind on her social skills. So when she woke up to Mission sobbing quietly in her bed, she walked across the cargo hold to the other dorm and knocked. Carth appeared to still be wearing his clothes.   
“What’s wrong?” he asked.   
“It’s Mission,” Bastila explained. “She’s not feeling good.”  
Carth needed no further explanation and walked with her back to the dorm. Mission sat up with tears rimming her reddened eyes and abruptly hugged Carth. Carth murmured some soothing words and coaxed her into walking into the main hold and having some hot chocolate.   
Bastila noted that Jason was also up, and wearing what appeared to be workout clothes. “I feel bad that I can’t do anything else to help.” She gestured to where Mission and Carth were sitting in silent conversation.   
Jason gently reached out and squeezed her right hand. “Yes, you are. You could have ignored it, but you went to get help for her. That means a lot.”  
She instinctively sensed that she’d earned some respect from him. If he was someone different, she’d feel happy. However, she felt unease and walked away, attempting to convince herself that the force that pulled her to him was only the bond between them and nothing more.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
When they arrived and glided into the landing pad at the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, Jason was nervous. He’d never met a bunch of VIPs before, Bastila and Carth were the first. He only hoped he could behave himself for as long as it took Bastila to make her report.   
Carth recognized a slender, brown haired man with brown eyes and brought him over to introduce him. “Zayne, this is my friend, Jason Archer. Jason, this is Zayne Carrick, an acquaintance of mine.”  
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jason said politely.  
Zayne smiled. “The feeling’s mutual since I hear you’re the reason my friend Carth was able to escape Taris before it was destroyed. Good luck with your meeting with the Jedi Council.”  
“I thought Jedi didn’t need luck,” Jason replied.  
Zayne shrugged. “Well, I’m technically not a Jedi. I did pass down the opportunity to take my trials. I still have a lightsaber, but I kind of do my own thing.”  
“Maybe if this meeting goes really badly, I could help you with that,” Jason joked, his green eyes flashing with amusement.   
“You’ll be fine,” Zayne said reassuringly. “The Council isn’t that intimidating once you get to know them better.”  
After Carth and Zayne shook hands, Carth and Jason followed Bastila from the landing pad and into the Jedi enclave. It was peaceful with trees dotting the path. Jason could see now why the Jedi chose this particular location to build their enclave. There was a feeling of inner serenity to the air that was very different from other planets he’d visited.   
Suddenly, as he crossed one of the alcoves, a human woman with mousy, brown hair intercepted him. “Halt padawan! Why aren’t you wearing your robes? Do you mock the traditions of the Order?”  
“Look, I’m not a padawan, I’m here with Carth and Bastila,” Jason glanced ahead, hoping his friends would rescue him from this vexing person, but they’d left him behind.   
“If this is some joke, it is in poor taste. I feel the Force flowing strongly within you. Surely you are one of the many padawans who have traveled here to study with Master Zhar.”  
“Seriously, I’ve told you the truth so could you please let me go?” Jason said, his patience worn thin. “I’m supposed to be meeting with the Jedi Council, and I doubt that they would be pleased that I’m late.”  
That did the trick of convincing the woman to back off. “I apologize. My name is Belaya and my master says that I need to learn more patience. Perhaps, he does have a point. I wish you a pleasant stay on Dantooine.”   
Finally, Jason was able to enter a T shaped section that was covered by a ceiling. Carth stood outside the chamber as a sentinel of sorts. “They’re waiting for you inside,” Carth said.  
Thankfully, there only appeared to be four figures in addition to Bastila, who seemed anxious. Jason wished he could reassure her and imagined sending soothing thoughts towards the brunette-haired woman who was both stubborn and brave. He felt an odd feeling of gratitude that wasn’t his own; it somehow was Bastila’s.   
The other figures were a brown skinned human, a pale skinned human, a short green alien from an unfamiliar species, and a purple skinned Twi’lek. Jason could almost sense energy rippling through them. Was this the Force at work? “Ah, so you are the one who rescued Bastila,” the purple skinned Twi’lek said. “It is appropriate you are here. We have been discussing your rather special case. I am Zhar, a member of the Jedi Council. With me are Master Vrook, Master Vandar and, of course, the Chronicler of our Academy, Master Dorak. Padawan Bastila, I am sure you are already familiar with.”  
“What exactly do you want to know?” Jason inquired, because he yearned to know why he was experiencing his visions. Informing the Council of the events on Taris seemed like a fair trade-off to him.   
“Bastila tells us you are strong in the Force,” Master Zhar explained. “We are considering you for Jedi training.”  
Ok, Jason wasn’t expecting this, considering that he was well above the age limit for Jedi training. Having Force abilities was one thing, but training and honing said abilities was somewhat intimidating. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” he admitted.  
“Don’t worry,” Master Zhar replied. “You will be ready when the time is right.”  
“Master Zhar speaks out of turn perhaps,” Master Vrook said. “We need indisputable proof of your strong affinity to the Force before we would even consider accepting you for training.”  
“Proof,” Bastila scoffed. “Surely the entire Council can feel the strength of the Force within this man and I’ve already related to you the events that took place on Taris.”  
“Perhaps it was simple luck,” Master Vrook suggested.   
“We both know there is no luck, there is only the Force,” Master Zhar said. “We all feel the power in Bastila’s companion, though it is wild and untamed. Now that this power has begun to manifest itself, can we safely ignore it?”  
“The Jedi training is long and difficult, even when working with a young and open mind. Teaching a child is hard. How much harder will it be for an adult to learn the ways of the Jedi?”  
While he wasn’t enthusiastic about learning the ways of the Force, Jason didn’t want to let Master Zhar (who appeared to be very supportive) down. “I am willing to try my best,” he said.  
“Traditionally, the Jedi do not accept adults for training, though there are rare exceptions in the history of our order,” Master Dorak said. “But you are a special case.”  
“I agree with Master Dorak,” Master Vandar declared. “Many of our own pupils are leaving the Jedi Order to follow the Sith teachings. We need recruits to stand against Malak. With Revan dead….”   
“Are you certain that Revan is truly dead?” interjected Master Vrook. “What if we undertake to train this one and the Dark Lord should return?”   
Jason felt confused; what did Revan have to do with whether he should receive Jedi training? He also noted that Bastila stiffened instinctively at the mention of Revan’s name.   
“We should discuss this matter more fully in private,” Master Vander said. “Bastila, you and your companion must go. This is a matter for the Council alone.”  
Bastila bowed. “As you wish, Master Vandar. We shall return to the Ebon Hawk and leave you to your deliberations.”  
After they exited the Council chambers, Jason asked, “Are you all right? You seemed a bit on edge back there?”  
Bastila shook her head vigorously. “No, I’m fine. But thank you for asking.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Carth split up from Bastila and Jason after receiving directions on the nearest store that carried universal translators. “Welcome,” the twi’lek proprietor greeted him warmly in Basic. “What are you looking for?”  
“I’m looking for one of those universal translators,” Carth admitted. “I only know Basic and a little bit of Huttese, and since I’m spending a lot of time in the Outer Rim, I figure it could be useful.”   
“We have a translator that covers all the common languages spoken in the Outer Rim,” the Twi’lek explained. “It’s available for five thousand credits.”  
That was too expensive, and Carth refused to pay the jacked-up tourist price. “How about I pay you three thousand credits,” Carth suggested.  
“Four thousand five hundred credits!”  
“Three thousand five hundred credits,” Carth countered.  
“Four thousand credits are my final offer,” the Twi’lek declared.  
It was still a little higher than what he wanted pay, but it was cheaper than the original offer. “Fine,” Carth conceded, and proceeded to transfer four thousand credits from his account.   
Fortunately, the proprietor of the store was polite enough to help him implant the device behind Carth’s right ear.   
“Have an excellent day,” the shop owner said in his native language.  
“Same to you,” Carth replied. Now that he acquired the translator, Carth decided to head back to the landing pad, and make the rest of the crew dinner, since he was the only one who could get the food synthesizer to cooperate. In spite of its pyric ending on Telos, he still smiled at the memory of impressing Morgana with his ability to make decent food with the synthesizer. Seeing her smile and teasingly say that he should start his own restaurant was worth spending two weeks convincing the churlish synthesizer to cooperate.   
Fortunately, Bastila was able to convince the Jedi in charge of the cafeterias to allow them to eat dinner in the cafeteria used by visiting Jedi, and guests who were under the Enclave’s protection. Zayne also happened to be there, and Carth was happy to note that Mission brightened up and asked Zayne lots of questions about what he was up lately. It was nice to see the kid of their group perk up after witnessing the devastation of her home world.  
“So, how’s Jarael doing?” Carth inquired, once Mission stopped bombarding Zayne with queries and focused on her food.   
Zayne smiled. “She’s pregnant with our first kid actually, and she’s far enough along that it wouldn’t be safe for her to travel.”  
“Congratulations,” Carth said, although his stomach twisted in knots at the bittersweet memory of finding out via commlink that Morgana was expecting Dustil during the Mandolorian War.   
Surprisingly, Bastila rescued him from having to say more by inquiring with Zayne about the Rogue Moon Project. Zayne seemed surprised that the stoic Jedi Padawan spoke, but eagerly answered all her questions about it. At least, all the questions that didn’t contain classified answers.   
After dinner, Carth pulled Bastila aside and said “Thank you.” He hadn’t expected the prickly Jedi to understand his suffering.  
“Don’t mention it,” was all she said, and the group ended up going back to the Ebon Hawk to sleep, although Zaalbar ended up having to coax Mission to get some sleep, in spite of her fear of bad dreams. Carth couldn’t blame her, considering his own nightmares about the destruction of Telos. He ended up falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason gets some Jedi training, and Atton learns some surprising revelations about Mission's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to do the CSI: Dantooine quest since it give Jason the chance to show off his detective skills.

After the private meeting of the Council adjourned, Master Zhar was troubled. While he’d been a member of the Jedi Council since a decade before the Mandalorians invaded the Republic, he also owed allegiance to another who had been his first teacher. It was because of her that he pleaded for clemency when Darth Revan was captured, and had mixed feelings about the mind wipe. He’d also agreed to undertake Revan’s retraining in the Force. He knew that Revan’s lost memories in order to find out the secret behind his infinite fleet. Zhar could only hope that Alyssa Sands would understand.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
The chamber is dark and Bastila noted that Revan and Malak pace as though they are uncertain of their next course of action. “The dark side is strong in this place,” Malak said excitedly. “I can feel its power!”   
Instead of replying, Revan reached forward with his hand and unlocked the door. Bastila noted that he didn’t seem to pay much attention to what Malak was saying.   
“Is this wise?” Malak asked. “The ancient Jedi sealed this archway. If we pass through this door we can never go back. The Order will surely banish us. Are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable? Can its power truly be worth the risk?”   
In spite of his doubts, Malak followed Revan into the room, which contained an odd sort of map that whirled open with an iron ball sitting in the center of it. Even via dream, Bastila could sense the dark side, and right before she awoke it almost beckoned to her. It was almost a relief to wake up to the soothing sounds of birds chirping on Dantooine. Jason still hadn’t emerged from the men’s dorm and Bastila needed to meet with the Jedi Council now.   
“Just tell him to come to the Council chambers when he wakes up,” she told Carth.   
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Carth inquired.  
“I’ve been better,” she admitted. “But I need to focus on our objectives.”  
She did appreciate that Carth had loosened up his initial harsh assessment of her, but Bastila knew they didn’t have time to rest. Darth Malak needed to be defeated before he annihilated the Republic. If the Jedi Council was shocked by her disheveled state, they thankfully didn’t comment on it. By the time, Jason arrived, she’d already described the dream in minute detail.   
“Bastila has told us of a most unusual development,” Master Vandar said. “She claims you and she have shared a dream, a vision of Revan and Malak in the ancient ruins here on Dantooine.”   
“These ruins have long been known to us,” Master Dorak explained. “But we believed them to merely be burial mounds. Perhaps, they are more than we first suspected, if Revan and Malak found something there.”   
Jason appeared a bit puzzled, but he didn’t contradict her. “It appeared as though they were searching for something.”   
“You and Bastila were able to share this dream, because of the Force bond between you,” Master Vandar explained.  
“Are you saying that I am joined to Bastila?” Jason asked, a little bit wary about their connection. Bastila couldn’t blame him, considering she’d almost upchucked the food in her stomach when she realized what she’d unwittingly created.   
“Your fates are intertwined,” Master Vandar replied. “It is a rare gift that usually forms between master and apprentice.”   
“We believe that you have received this dream, because you were meant to discover the truth behind the ruins,” Master Zhar explained. “However, first you will need to be trained, so that you will be able to protect yourself from the thrall of the dark side.”  
Jason nodded, although Bastila sensed that he was skeptical about how helpful this training would be. “I will do the best I can Masters.”   
“Then let us begin,” Master Zhar said, as he escorted both her and Jason to one of the training rooms.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Atton paced the Ebon Hawk, bored out of his mind. He’d played several rounds of pazaak with Zaalbar, and Mission, who both proved to be adept at the game. Carth spent most of his time catching up with Zayne Carrick, who was apparently a friend of his. Canderous was repairing the swoop bike that was stored on the ship. A part of him feared that the Jedi would discover his past and the abilities he’d struggled to bury deep into himself. So, when Mission suggested that she and Zaalbar borrow a speeder and go to Garang, the closest thing this monotonous planet had to a capital.   
“Would you mind if I tag along?” Atton offered.  
“Not at all,” Mission replied. “We need someone to drive the speeder since I’m too young, and driving vehicles isn’t in Big Z’s skill set.”   
As they whizzed along the plains, Atton sensed a feeling of inner serenity. For the first time since he was a child, Atton felt safe and secure. After about an hour of driving, they arrived at the outskirts of Garang, which was a mid-sized town.   
“This is small,” Mission said as Atton pulled into a parking spot behind the Gnarled Kath Hound, the town’s only cantina.   
After ordering a bottle of Corellian whiskey, he headed over to the pazaak tables to begin earning some money. Atton was careful to lose a couple of times so no one decided to pick a fight with him. 

“So how did you earn the bloodstripes?” Mission asked, during a short break between his games.   
Atton smiled; it was lovely to see that someone recognized them. “I managed to evacuate our unit to safety during the Battle of Eres III before the Mandalorians glassed it.” He still recalled the towering pyres that wafted up into the air, and the guilt that he was alive, while so many others weren’t as fortunate.   
Mission’s eyes misted. “That sounds nice,” she said, her mind clearly on Taris. Atton wished he could tell Mission that the pain of her home world’s destruction would fade, but that would be a deception. The teen would have to live with the scar, just as Atton lived with the scars of his losses.   
Just then, a pretty yellow skinned Twi’lek sitting at the bar did a double take, and sauntered over to their table. “Mission? Is that you?” she asked politely. “It’s me, Lena. Remember I was dating your brother back on Taris!”   
Atton noted from her frown that Mission wasn’t thrilled to see Lena. “Lena? What…. what are you here? And where’s Griff?”  
“I’m just passing through,” Lena admitted. “Griff and I broke up a few months after we left Taris together. Probably for the best. Your brother can be charming, Mission, but he’s bad news.”   
“Don’t you start trashing my brother, you cantina rat!” Mission hissed. “Take that back, or I’ll smack you so hard your head-tails will pop off!”  
Lena looked shocked at Mission’s verbal barrage. “Wha…? Mission, what’s wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?”   
Atton stepped in before a cat fight could break out, to the disappointment of several bystanders. “Mission gets a little worked up when it comes to her brother,” he said, as though he hadn’t just learned that Mission had a brother.   
“Yeah, I know how she feels,” Lena said gently. “Griff can be frustrating. I guess that’s why Mission didn’t want to come with us when we left Taris.”   
“You liar!” Mission yelled. “Griff told me you didn’t want his little sister tagging along, that’s why he had to leave me behind!”  
“Is that what the Hutt-spawn told you?” Lena spat. “I wanted you to come with us, Mission. I even offered to pay for your ticket! Why not? I paid for everything else while I was with that freeloader! But he told me you didn’t want to leave Taris! I said we shouldn’t even go then, but he said we’d come back and get you after we struck it rich on Tatooine. Just another one of his lies!”  
“No, you’re the one who’s lying!” Mission said. “Griff wouldn’t…. he wouldn’t leave me behind!”  
While the picture Lena painted did make sense, Atton wasn’t quite ready to completely believe her. “Why should we believe you Lena?” Atton asked.  
“Think about it,” Lena explained. “If Griff wasn’t trying to ditch you Mission, then why didn’t he tell where we were going? After we left Taris he told me looking after you was holding him back, Griff’s always looking to blame other people for his own problems. That’s why abandoned you. He did the same thing to me, too, as soon as I ran out of money. He started blaming me for all his problems. Like it’s my fault his get-rich-quick schemes never work out!”  
That did make sense. “Sounds like you’re better off without him,” Atton said, ignoring the death glare Mission sent in his direction.  
“You damn well know it!” Lena declared. “He’s nothing but a sleazy scam artist. If Mission knew what was good for her she’d forget he’d ever existed.”  
“But Griff is my brother!” Mission protested, attempting to ward off the bitter truth. “I can’t just pretend he doesn’t exist! If he was here to defend himself Lena wouldn’t be saying all this bad stuff about him!”   
“Hey, if you want to talk to Griff go ahead,” Lena said. “Last I heard he was going to make a fortune working for Czerka Corp mines on Tatooine. But as far as I’m concerned he’s out of my life forever!”  
“Griff’s better off without you anyway, you table-dancing, brother-stealing home wrecker!”  
“Mission!” Atton yelled, feeling that her slurs were a bit excessive.  
Instead of defending herself Lena said, “I guess that’s my cue to leave then. I didn’t mean to upset you Mission. But one day you’ll see I’m right about your brother. I only hope it’s not too late by then.” With that, she walked out of the cantina.  
Once they met up with Zaalbar and left the cantina, Atton asked, “Are you ok?”  
“Not really,” Mission said. “I’m glad that Griff isn’t dating Lena anymore, but I’m worried about him. Do you think Jason will let us go to Tatooine to look for Griff?”  
“I’ll have to talk to Jason, but I don’t see why not,” Atton replied.  
After a dinner comprised of pasta with a meat sauce, Atton broached the topic with Jason. “Mission seemed pretty desperate to meet up with Griff.”  
“We’ll have to see if we have time,” Jason replied. “But apart from that, I don’t have any objections.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
On some days, Master Zhar was there to critique Jason’s technique. However, on days when Master Zhar was working with other students Bastila sparred with Jason. At first, Jason’s technique was marginal. But after several days of effort, he finally began to learn how to counter her attacks. When that happened, Bastila traded her single vibroblade for one of the double-blade variety.   
“You can’t stay away from twin blades, can you?” Jason teased.  
Bastila resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “A sizeable portion of the Jedi who served Revan during the Mandalorian Wars and turned to the darkside utilize double-bladed lightsabers, therefore it is good idea for you to be acquainted with them. The trick is to not freeze when you see them, and remember that if you are aware of one blade, then you can calculate where the other is. Plus, wielding a double-bladed lightsaber limits the number of maneuvers you can perform without impaling yourself. With that said, why don’t you have a go against me.”  
At first Jason was cautious and focused on merely blocking her attacks. After a couple minutes, he seemed to sense her style, feinted, and launched a counterattack that Bastila was barely able to parry. Then, he caught one of her ankles and sent her tumbling on top of him.  
“Sorry,” Jason said sheepishly.   
“It’s quite all right,” Bastila said, blushing vermillion. She had never been this close to a man before and certainly not in such a compromising position!  
“Do you think you could get off me?” Jason asked.  
“Sure,” she said, pulling herself up and running away even though it wasn’t even noon. Bastila ended up avoiding Jason for the rest of the day, trying not to think of how natural it felt to have their bodies touch each other.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Jason didn’t mention the incident when Bastila returned the next day, not even on the days when Master Zhar was busy with his other students. He understood that she might not be interested in him, although the feelings from their bond suggested otherwise. Anyways, it wasn’t worth dwelling on when he had this Jedi training stuff to do. After three weeks of boring exercises and a test on his knowledge of the Jedi code, Master Zhar said he was finally done.  
“You’ve done in weeks what many could not achieve in years,” he said. “However, before you achieve the rank of Padawan you must choose which path you will take as a Jedi. Talk to Master Dorak when you’re ready to choose.”  
So, Jason headed over to Master Dorak, who was eager to explain the different classes. Jason found himself torn between focusing on his combat skills or honing his Force abilities.  
“Out of curiosity, which classes were Revan and Malak?” he asked, surprised at his own audacity.  
Master Dorak didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by Jason’s query. “Malak preferred to take threats head on and was a Jedi Guardian. Revan, however, chose to take the path of a Jedi Sentinel, balancing between using Force abilities and combat.”  
“I would like to be a Jedi Sentinel,” Jason said.  
“Indeed,” Master Dorak said. “We shall see. I will ask you questions, and your responses will indicate which class you lean most towards. A woman and her small child are beset by a desperate-looking group of thugs. They are menacing her with weapons and she screams to you for help. What do you do?”  
“Help them flee,” Jason said. For all he knew, there might be more thugs than he could take on.   
“Hmm…indeed. Very well, on to the next question. You are in combat with a Dark Jedi allied with the Sith. There is a pause in the combat. What do you do?”  
“Try to see a weakness in his technique,” Jason replied.  
“Yes, I suspected as much,” Master Dorak said. “Now for the next question. There is a locked door and your goal lies on the other side. What do you do?”  
“Try to pick the lock,” said Jason, for he’d persuaded one of the criminals he’d caught back on Deralia to teach him how.  
“I’m beginning to see a pattern here, apprentice. I have a feeling about what you would be best at. But first, the final question. You are the head of an Enclave on a contested world. The Dark Jedi have infiltrated and are causing unrest across the planet. What do you do?”  
“Try to lure them into a trap,” Jason said.  
“Yes, I thought as much,” Master Dorak declared. “As I suspected, you would be most suitable as a Jedi Sentinel. Which color and path do you believe yourself most suited toward, apprentice?”  
“Yellow, the color of a Jedi Sentinel,” Jason said.  
Master Dorak gave him a yellow crystal and instructed him to return to Master Zhar who would show him how to construct a lightsaber. Master Zhar had him sit on the floor with the pieces of the hilt, and meditate on how those pieces would fit together. As Jason reached out into the Force, it was as if his hands had performed this task before, and the lightsaber came together quickly.  
“You have done extremely well in constructing your lightsaber apprentice,” Master Zhar said. “Your crystal seems to have been set perfectly. It is rare indeed for that to happen the first time one constructs a lightsaber. These crystals are very rare, found only in certain caves strong in the Force. By adding crystals to your lightsaber, you can alter or enhance its properties. There have even been unconfirmed rumors of certain Force-sensitive caves here on Dantooine that may hold these crystals.”   
“I can find crystals like that on Dantooine?” Jason inquired, since he hadn’t set foot outside the enclave since his training began and was interested in exploring.   
“It is a rumor only,” Master Zhar admitted. “I do not know if there is any truth in it. But you must learn first to use your lightsaber and take care when drawing it. Your lightsaber marks you as a member of the Jedi Order. With such recognition comes honor and respect….and the attention of dangerous enemies. The Sith and the Dark Jedi will seek to destroy you apprentice. And you must prove yourself worthy in battle against a foe who also wields a lightsaber. Are you ready to face the final challenge apprentice?”  
Jason nodded, hoping that he would finally be allowed to venture outside of the Enclave. “I’m ready for the third trial.”  
“For every Jedi, the threat of the dark side is always present. You must truly understand this before you are accepted into the Order. You must see the corruption of the dark side for yourself. Even here on Dantooine, there are places where the dark side holds sway, twisting and tainting nature itself. The ancient grove once used for deep meditation by the Jedi is now tainted, a wave of darkness perverts the region around it. The kath hounds in the area have become savage and ruthless. They have become a threat to the settlers, a threat the Jedi have promised to stop.”  
“What would you have me do, Master Zhar?” Jason asked.  
“That kath hounds are but a symptom of the true problem,” Master Zhar explained. “You must journey into the grove and confront the true source of the darkness. That is your task.”  
“Do you have any other guidance?” Jason inquired, feeling that Master Zhar was deliberately withholding information.   
“I can say no more; some things you must see for yourself. None of the other Jedi at the academy are permitted to help you in this task. But remember this my young apprentice: a Jedi acts with patience and care, and those on the dark path are not always forever lost. The dark side still taints the ancient grove. Your lessons cannot continue until the spreading corruption of the dark side has been stopped. This is your task, apprentice. May the Force be with you.”  
Bastila also nodded, and gently squeezed his hand. “May the Force be with you Jason.”  
Jason smiled, feeling the sincerity of her words through there bond. “Thank you Bastila.” With that, he set off to complete his task.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Canderous felt a strong sense of disappointment as the trio took on a group of his former brothers; he’d never truly seen how far the Mandalorians had fallen until now. Instead of taking worlds, his people were reduced to working as mercenaries, or tormenting farmers.   
He tossed a frag grenade, easily finishing off one of the Duros, who screamed before falling in the tall grass. Jason and Atton tag teamed to take down one of Mandalorians, and Canderous privately admitted that the pair were formidable team. All Canderous had to do was provide cover fire, which wasn’t as exciting as fighting in close quarters against his opponent, but Canderous took what he could get.   
When their last opponent fell, Jason asked, “Canderous, do you need a medpac?”  
Canderous shook his head. “I’m fine.”  
“This is probably one of their scouting parties,” Atton noted. “We’ll probably need to face a couple more of these groups before we’ll get the attention of their leader.”  
Jason nodded. “So, let’s move out.”  
While Canderous enjoyed the fight, he couldn’t help but feel that those dead warriors could have been so much more. If only Revan hadn’t denied the clans Mandalore’s helmet, then they might have fought alongside their brothers-in-arms for a cause that mattered instead of intimidating defenseless farmers. But that was in the past, and if there was one thing Canderous learned during his time on Taris, it was worthless to dwell in the past.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
If it weren’t for the endless onslaught of kath hounds, Jason thought that Dantooine would be a pleasant place to live. As it was, he was grateful for the cover fire provided by Canderous, and Atton instinctively sensed how to complement Jason’s fighting style. Speaking of Atton, the man was currently glaring daggers at Canderous who pretended not to notice. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to pick these two.   
Just then, he met another Twi’lek Jedi who appeared to be in the middle of an investigation. Jason decided it wouldn’t hurt to find out what was going on. So, he approached, and bowed in greeting.   
“Apprentice, your arrival here is well timed,” the Twi’lek Jedi uttered.   
“Who are you?” Jason asked.  
“I am Bolook, a Jedi from the Enclave,” he said. “I was sent by the Jedi Council to investigate a killing that took place here a few hours ago. Communication does not pose a problem, as both the suspects and I speak Basic and Huttese. I was going to handle this case myself, but now that you are here this could be an excellent opportunity for you to demonstrate how well you have been learning your lessons at the Academy. Though you are not yet a full Jedi, perhaps you can assist me in sorting out the truth from the lies.”  
Jason deliberated and decided it couldn’t hurt them to take a short detour and assist Bolook in his investigation. Moreover, a part of him missed his days as an investigator on Deralia. “What would like me to do?” he asked.  
Bolook smiled as though Jason already passed a test. “Listen to the stories given by the two suspects. I have brought an information retrieval droid with access to the Archives both at the Jedi Enclave and the planetary capital. I will use my wisdom and experience to offer you some advice, but I will not solve the case for you. There is little benefit if you do not solve this problem yourself. Consider each man’s account and check the facts with the information droid. Once you have gathered all the evidence you think you need, run through the possible scenario with me. If you are unable to come up with a satisfactory resolution, then I will take these men to the Enclave and deal with this myself. According to the accounts of the participants, these three men were out here in the field together earlier, before the clouds broke. I find that very odd, for most people would seek shelter indoors when the sky is filled with dark stormclouds as it was earlier today. But that is not the most puzzling aspect of this case. The dead man, Calder Nettic, was shot in the back with a blaster rifle. A rifle was found lying near his body with blood stains on it. It has been sent back to the Enclave for analysis. Two other men were found at the scene when I arrived. One was Handon Guld. He was unarmed. The other was Rickard Lusoff, who was carrying a hunting laser. Both men say that they did not do anything, and that they came across the body. But both also accuse the other. Obviously, there is more to this then what we have been told.”  
“Is there anything else I should know?” Jason asked, as he processed the intel Master Bolook already provided him.   
“There is one last thing. When I arrived Handon was holding his side and Rickard was favoring one of his legs. You would do well to remember this as we progress through this case.”  
When Jason questioned them, it was almost as if the two men had fallen into a scenario of bad witness/good witness. Although he’d already found a lie. “Master Bolook,” he said. “If it was cloudy earlier that means there was no sun glare. Therefore, Rickard is lying.”  
Master Bolook nodded. “Yes, well done! Since, it was very cloudy this morning, Rickard was lying. This does not mean that he is guilty of the murder, but it is an excellent step in the right direction. Now you must figure out a motive. Question both men regarding their relationships with Calder Nettic.”  
Jason decided that instead of asking the witnesses who would have every reason to lie, to ask the droid to peruse the records. “Do you have any records of interactions between Handon and Calder?”  
“The Southwood speeder rental business has records that, over the past several weeks, a speeder had been rented by Mr. Nettic and Mr. Guld,” the droid reported.   
“And what about Calder and Rickard?” Jason inquired.  
“According to the municipal authorities near the Garang spaceport there had been news of violent, drunken activity at the Gnarled Kath Hound. Apparently, a Mr. R. Lusoff was making accusations at a Mr. C. Nettic about cheating him in a business deal. Jedi Tooka was dispatched to the scene and restored order.”  
Jason raised an eyebrow at the new information, which pointed towards Rickard having a motive and a method. On the other hand, it was possible that Handon could possess an equally valid motive for committing murder. “According to the droid you and Calder rented a speeder together. Would you like to explain what’s up with that?” Jason asked.  
Handon gulped in air like he was one of those aquatic animals on Manaan. When he recognized that Jason wasn’t going to back down without an answer, he exhaled and replied, “My wife was…. cheating on me with Calder. They slept in the same bed while I was in the next room. I admit, I had a reason for wanting Calder dead, but I didn’t do it. I was just trying to keep my head straight for the divorce proceedings. Running isn’t a crime!”  
When he noted this to Master Bolook, he said, “That may be, but we still do not have all the evidence. I would suggest examining the murder weapon itself.”  
So, Jason trotted back to the droid. “Do you have any information on the weapon?”  
The droid shook its head. “We only know that the weapon didn’t belong to Calder.”  
Jason noted that while Rickard had a blaster that was confiscated by Master Bolook, Handon did not. It was unusual for Handon not to be carrying a weapon given the dangers brought by the kath hounds. “Do you recognize the blaster?” he asked Handon.  
“That blaster was stolen from my house last week!” the man yelled. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for it! A blaster is a settler’s most prized possession I would appreciate it if you returned it to me once this investigation is completed!”  
Handon’s story sounded sensible, but Jason decided to check with the droid for a missing report, since the man sounded desperate to locate his missing property. When he asked the droid, it confirmed a niggling sense in the back of his mind.   
“I’m sorry, I seem to have failed you. I searched, but there appears to be no report of a missing weapon,” the droid said.  
“The blaster is Handon’s,” he told Master Bolook. “And he lied about it being stolen.”  
“So, we have caught Handon in a lie. I feel that we need one more piece before we can solve this investigation. The droid has received the lab results from the blood on the weapon.”  
Unfortunately, it turned out that the blood on the sample did not belong to Calder. So, Jason attempted to put the puzzle together. Handon lied about the blaster being stolen. Rickard claimed to have aimed for an iriaz. Plus, Handon was clutching his side. Yes, that made perfect sense.  
“The blood didn’t belong to the victim, but I think it’s Handon’s,” Jason said.  
“And why is that?” Master Bolook asked.  
“Handon has been clutching his side this whole time,” he said.  
“That is true,” Master Bolook noted. “Perhaps it’s time we examined him.”  
“Hey, what are you doing?!” Handon protested.  
“Handon has been shot. Perhaps by Rickard who was defending himself after Handon killed Calder.”  
Jason shook his head. “They are both guilty, because Rickard was mad about Calder cheating him at a business deal.”  
Master Bolook nodded in approval. “Handon killed Calder and Rickard shot Handon, thinking that he was Calder.”  
“Damn you!” spat Rickard “Damn both of you.”  
“Wow, that was impressive,” Atton said, as Master Bolook escorted his two prisoners away. “I’m not sure I would have the patience to unravel that mystery.”  
Jason nodded in thanks for Atton’s compliment, and the trio continued on in search of more Mandalorians.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So our heroes finally solve the mystery behind the tainted grove, and find their first Star Map.

While the second group of Mandalorians proved to be easy to vanquish with Jason and Atton getting closer while Canderous provided cover fire, Jason took one look at the final group of Mandalorians and decided they needed to back-track. Unfortunately, he also chose to go into a kinrath infested cave. So now Atton had several bites embossed on his arms and legs. The only thing that improved the situation was the knowledge that Canderous and Jason were in the exact same boat with injuries of their own.   
“Well it turns out that the rumors about crystals were true,” Jason crowed, as he began to harvest said crystals.  
“Well while you do that, I’ll wait for my blisters from those kinrath to burst,” Atton muttered under his breath.   
Unfortunately, Jason overheard him and offered to heal those blisters with a new technique her learned at the academy. Choosing between extreme pain or having to feel the Force, Atton chose the latter, closing his eyes as a calm healing wave fell over him. When he opened his eyes, he noted that the blisters were smaller, and not as angry looking as they’d been before.   
With that out of the way, the trio back-tracked to the Enclave and the Ebon Hawk. By the time, they arrived, lunch was underway, so they ate in the cafeteria with the rest of the crew, minus Bastila, who had decided to eat with her fellow Jedi. Atton wouldn’t admit it, but a part of him missed her.   
When Jason asked Mission to help them with their dilemma, she nodded and reassured Zaalbar that she would be fine. “They just need me to sneak in and set some mines, Big Z,” she said. “I won’t even be part of the fighting.”  
So, the group headed back to the place where the large group of Mandalorians gathered. Mission turned on her Stealth field generator and even Atton struggled to make out her location. It takes her several minutes to plant the mines and then back away before revealing herself.   
The lead Mandalorian clearly wasn’t fooled by the lone girl present. “We know you’re here, Jedi. You can’t hide from us. I will add your head to the heads of the other Jedi I’ve killed, and take yet another lightsaber for my collection.”  
Fortunately, the leader decided to chase after Mission, only to be engulfed in the minefield. He wasn’t killed, but he was badly injured. Jason, jumped from his hiding spot in the grass and passing Mission, clashed his lightsaber against the leader. Meanwhile, Atton and Canderous moved to take on the other two Mandalorians. Atton swore under his breath, remembering how Mandalorian armor blocked all but the strongest hits. Suddenly, his opponent fell to a blaster shot from Canderous, allowing Atton to focus on the other Mandalorian. He might not be fond of Canderous, but he couldn’t deny that the man was a loyal, efficient ally. After he stabbed his opponent in the neck, one of the few weak spots in Mandalorian armor, Atton turned to find that Jason and Mission already finished off the Duros and both were arguing.   
“Mission, I’m not saying you weren’t helpful,” Jason said gently. “However, we already have enough people to investigate the disturbance.”  
Mission snorted, but finally headed back to the Ebon Hawk at a steady trot.  
“So, what now boss?” Canderous inquired, once they finished tending to each other’s wounds.  
“Now we go deeper into the grove,” Jason replied. “And find out what exactly is causing the disturbance.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Jason was glad that he’d convinced Mission to go back, since the kath hounds in this area were especially vicious and he now bore several bite wounds, in addition to the bites he got from the kinrath. Atton and Canderous weren’t faring much better, although Jason noted that Canderous seemed to have a couple of regenerative implants, which did give their team a slight edge.   
As they rounded the corner to the meditation grove, Jason finally saw her. It was a Cathar woman, who was ringed by columns, and the bodies of two Mandalorians. The training he’d received from Master Zhar meant that Jason recognized the cloying poison-like presence that was the dark side of the Force. A part of Jason instinctively knew that she had very little control over her powers, which meant she would be easy to defeat, but difficult to reason with. Still, Jason was determined to make an attempt.  
Just then, the woman stood from her pose and exited the circle she’d been kneeling in. She reached forward with her hands and froze Jason’s two companions into statues. “I will be your doom!” she yelled, before drawing her red bladed lightsaber.  
Jason swiftly moved to parry her initial onslaught. He continued to defend against her attacks, and until finally he saw an opening. He gently slashed at her arms lightly and knocked her lightsaber from her hands.   
The woman stopped and panted, clutching her chest. “You…. you are strong. Stronger than me, even in my darkness.”  
“Who are you?” Jason gently asked.  
“I am Juhani,” the woman declared. “And this is my grove. This is the place of my dark power. This is the place you have invaded. When I embraced the dark side, this was where I sought my solace. It is MINE!”  
“You embraced the dark side? Why?” Jason inquired.  
“When I slew my master, Quatra, I knew I could never go back. And now I revel in my dark power. Power enough to crush the life from one such as you…...or so I had thought……”  
“The dark side is never powerful enough,” Jason said.   
“What is it you want? Why do you bother me?” Juhani hissed, still hostile in spite of her defeat.   
Jason instinctively knew that he was going to have talk with Juhani slowly in order to calm her down. “I just want to talk.”  
“Talk?! You who have beaten me so easily just want to talk? I do not believe it. Kill me now, while you still have the power.”  
“I have no desire to kill you Juhani,” Jason said.  
“You do not? I am pathetic, and think myself to be great by embracing the dark side, but I am nothing! There is no way I could be turned back! I always thought they held me back, were jealous of my power. But it is only, because I was not good enough to meet their standards…...I never have been.”  
Jason could relate, since he knew from his own recent training that being a Jedi wasn’t easy. “Come now, Juhani. You are a beautiful young woman who has much talent.”  
“I thank you for your kind words Jedi,” she declared. “I seem to still have much to learn…. both about being a Jedi, and about myself. But I wish the cost of my ignorance had not been so high. I wish that my Master had not suffered, because of me.”  
“Even in death, the Force will allow her to live on.”  
Juhani considered this for a moment before she nodded. “I suppose you are right. But what I must I do now? Could the Jedi Council truly take me back after the crime I have committed?”   
“Then show them you have freed yourself from this base passion,” Jason urged.   
“Yes, If I show them that I am free of anger. Maybe, just maybe, they might take me back. Do you think it’s possible?”  
“Maybe,” Jason replied.  
“Then I will go to the Council and submit myself to their judgement. Thank you.” With that, Juhani took off towards the Jedi Enclave. After she vanished from sight, Jason checked on both Atton and Canderous who finally unfroze.   
“Are you all right?” he asked.  
“You mean apart from temporarily being a statue and being completely useless against a Force user,” Atton said, deadpan. “No, I’m perfectly fine.”  
“Then let’s get back to the Enclave,” Jason said. They ended up back, until Jason’s muscles began to scream from overuse. Fortunately, that was when the Enclave was in view. When Jason entered the building, Belaya met him there with a smile on her face.  
“Thank you for helping to return Juhani to the Enclave,” she said.  
Jason shrugged. “I’m just glad I was able to assist.” With that, he headed back to the training room, where Master Zhar congratulated him for reaching the rank of Padawan. Then, they walked to the meeting room, where Bastila and the rest of the Council waited. Jason noted that he could sense a feeling of pride emanating from Bastila. While understood intellectually that he was bonded to Bastila, a part of him found it disconcerting to be sharing so much with a stranger, even an extremely attractive stranger.   
“It is good to see Juhani has returned to the way of the light,” Master Vandar said. “You are to be commended for your role in this. Your actions give us great hope for the future. Your training is now complete Padawan. And perhaps now it is time we dealt with the matter of the dream you and Bastila shared. When we heard of the ruins in your dreams, Master Dorak recognized it as one of a series of ancient structures here on Dantooine. This one in particular lies to the east of this Enclave. We sent a Jedi to investigate…. but he has not returned. Perhaps sending him in the first place was a mistake. The Force is guiding you through your visions; it may be that exploring the ruins is a task tied to your destiny. That is why the Council has decided that you should be the one to investigate this. The secrets to stopping Malak may be hidden within those ruins. You must investigate them and find out what Revan and Malak were looking for.”  
While Jason was certain that the Jedi Council was concealing something from him, he also wanted to explore these ruins. “I will investigate these ruins right away.”  
Just then, a pale gray haired human male barged into the Council chambers. “I demand justice! The Sandral family is a blight upon Dantooine! They must be punished!”  
“The Council will look into this matter, Mr. Matale,” Master Vandar said calmly. “You must be patient. Your accusations have no proof, and we do not want you stirring up trouble with the Sandrals if there is some mistake.”  
“Mistake?” Mr. Matale yelled as though he were in a sports stadium. “My son Shen is missing! How can there be any doubt the Sandrals are to blame?”  
“There are other possible explanations for your son’s disappearance,” Master Vrook replied, tartly, and for once Jason actually agreed with the grumpy Jedi Master.  
“Bah! You Jedi are good for nothing but talk!” Mr. Matale retorted. “I shall only wait so long before I take action on my own!”  
“As dangerous as the threat from Darth Malak and the Sith may be, we Jedi cannot simply abandon our other responsibilities,” Master Vandar explained. “The Council has promised Alhan Matale we will look into his son’s disappearance. Should you have time, Padawan, you may want to investigate into this matter.”  
In spite of the potential for a blood feud, Jason felt elated that he received another potential mystery to solve. “I shall look into this at once,” he said.  
“If Shen Matale is not returned to his father it may ignite a savage and bloody feud between the Matale and Sandral estates,” Master Vrook said. “We must not allow that to happen.”  
“Your study and training are important of course,” Master Vandar added. “But the Jedi are not a cloistered Order. Our influence and teachings must spread beyond the walls of our Academies.”  
“It is in the real world that we truly prove ourselves worthy of the title of Jedi,” Master Vrook said. “You would do well to remember this, Padawan.”  
And with that happy thought in mind, the Council meeting ended. Thankfully, Bastila decided to join them for dinner in the guest cafeteria, especially since Zayne finally finished his business on Dantooine, and was leaving tomorrow. Jason noted that while Bastila was conversing with Atton, who seemed torn between annoyance and interest.   
With autumn in full swing on Dantooine, hot, mulled apple cider was now available at the end of the line alongside the caf. Plus, there was a spinach salad with apples, iriaz cheese, and sliced tomatoes that Jason ended up enjoying so much that he went back for seconds. He particularly enjoyed it topped with pine nuts.   
After finishing dinner, Jason was content to head back to the Ebon Hawk, and he fell fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Unlike Jason, Carth slept badly with dreams that were a combination of what really happened on Telos and what he imagined happened, especially since they’d never found Dustil. As they left the Enclave, he observed that Bastila kept eyeing Jason when she thought he wasn’t looking. Occasionally the pair’s eyes would meet, and a brief staring competition would commence until one of them finally turned away. The only bright side was that with the grove cleansed, there were fewer kath hounds.   
“I think I see something!” Jason yelled, and the group moved swiftly down the hill to the body, which sported deep bite wounds.   
“The skin tone is too dark to be Shen,” Bastila observed.   
Meanwhile, Jason skimmed entries on the man’s data pad. “Apparently, the guy was an amateur archeologist, and he was interested in something called the ‘Rak’. And it looks like he’s a part of the Sandral family.”  
“If that’s the case than we need to inform Nurik Sandral before he blames the Matales for this,” Bastila said. “The diary should be proof that we’re telling the truth.”  
“And while we’re at it, we should stop off at the Matale estate and find out more about what happened when Shen went missing,” Carth suggested.  
The other agreed it was an excellent idea, and the trio trekked over to the Matale house, which thankfully wasn’t far from where they found Cassus’ body. “This is private property,” a war droid declared in a dull monotone. “By whose authority are you trespassing?”  
“I’ve come on behalf of the Jedi Council to speak to Mr. Matale,” Jason explained.  
“Very well,” said the droid. “I will inform him that you are here.”  
Mr. Matale didn’t look particularly pleased to see them, and began ranting about how the Sandrals were to blame for the feud, etc. Carth noted that Bastila barely restrained herself from snorting. Apparently, not even the Jedi possessed infinite patience.  
“And here I thought you would blame us if we failed,” Carth said. “It seems everyone is responsible for your actions except for you.”  
“I don’t need to stand here and listen to such impertinence!” Mr. Matale yelled.  
“I’m impressed Carth,” Bastila uttered. “That interjection was very Jedi-like.”  
Carth shrugged. “What can I say? You pick up a few things.”  
“However, I am a man of the world,” Mr. Matale replied. “And I’m willing to compensate you in exchange for ensuring the Sandrals are found responsible for Shen’s disappearance.”  
“You’re trying to bribe us?!” Jason said, aghast. “Sorry, but I’m not interested in money or power. I just want to find out the truth.”  
With that, the trio departed for the Sandral estate, since they still needed to inform Mr. Sandral of Cassus’ demise.   
“So, no one’s attempted to bribe you before?” Bastila inquired, as they crossed over into the Sandral grounds.  
“People have,” Jason admitted. “It’s the fact that so many rich idiots think they can make a problem go away simply by throwing money at it that pisses me off.”  
Whatever frustration Jason possessed was thrown aside when he politely addressed the war droid, who immediately left to inform its owner. Mr. Sandral was more composed than Mr. Matale, but appeared almost resigned to hear their grim news.  
“My droid tells me that you have word that my son Cassus is dead,” he said. “How did it happen?”  
“Your son was killed by kath hounds,” Jason said gently.  
“Kath hounds, I was almost certain that the Matales were involved. But this doesn’t change that they started this mess!” he yelled. “Actually, I wanted to know if you might have his diary. I have money I can give you.”  
Jason shook his head. “I don’t need credits, and I’m giving you the diary without compensation, because that’s what your son would want.”  
Mr. Sandral actually managed a faint smile at Jason’s words. “Thank you. The diary is all that I have left of my son. Please leave me to my grief.”  
Just as Mr. Sandral left the entrance room, a young, lovely brown skinned woman entered, her eyes wide with desperation. “You are here from the Council, are you not?” she asked. “Looking for Shen Matale?”  
“Who are you?” Jason inquired.  
“My name is Rahasia. Nurik is my father. He has not been himself since Cassus disappeared. He is mad with grief and is convinced the Matales are responsible. He’s not thinking rationally.”   
“What exactly do you mean?” Jason asked gently.   
“My father has kidnapped Shen Matale. He saw it as revenge for my brother’s disappearance.”  
“Well that’s the answer we were looking for,” Bastila said. “And the Jedi Council needs to be informed.”  
Carth snorted, since Bastila clearly was inexperienced in dealing with hostage situations. “You don’t think there’s a little more this.”  
“That’s not up to us,” Bastila retorted. “The Council needs to decide.”  
“No! Now that Cassus is dead, I’m afraid my father will kill Shen out of a misguided need for vengeance,” Rahasia said.  
“What can we do to help?” Jason asked.  
“Here is a pass card that will take you through the side entrance. There are many security droids guarding the halls. You are Shen’s only hope.”  
As they walked over to the side entrance, Carth mused that there was something more than compassion for another being in Rahasia’s eyes. It wistfully reminded him of Morgana, especially in the early years of their marriage before the Mandalorian Wars took their toll on their relationship. Carth also found out the unexpected perks of travelling with Jedi; most droids ended up becoming hunks of metal against lightsabers. All he needed to do was to provide cover fire for both Bastila and Jason. Jason was able to make quick work on the lock to Shen’s cell.   
Unfortunately, Shen refused to leave, citing that Rahasia would be in danger. It wasn’t until Jason suggested that Rahasia come with Shen, that the young man finally agreed to leave. Then, they had to explain the situation to Rahasia, who thankfully agreed to come. Just as they were about to leave, both of their fathers showed up with their droids.   
Neither of them were willing to compromise, until Jason said a few things, and suddenly the two men were agreeing to build a house for their children. Carth was just glad everything turned out all right, even the situation made him miss Morgana.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………....  
Bastila was anxious head out to the ruins, which she’d read about while studying at the Enclave. Maybe focusing on the ruins would make it easier to forget how easy it was to fall into a pattern with Jason. Romantic relationships were discouraged for a reason. Moreover, she couldn’t afford to allow personal feelings to get in the way of fulfilling her mission.   
The ruins were built into one of the hills not far from the Jedi Enclave, and as they approached, the grid-like door slid open to reveal a short, dark hallway that led to another door.   
“Can you feel that?” Jason inquired. “It’s like there’s something dark and ancient down there.”  
“The Dark side of the Force is strong here,” Bastila said. “We need to be cautious as we venture ahead.”  
With a flick of Jason’s wrist, the door slid open to admit the trio, but then slammed shut behind them.  
“Well I guess we’re not getting out that way,” Carth noted wryly.  
An odd shaped black droid stood before them, and spoke in an unrecognizable language. When Jason attempted to speak to it, the droid replied in another unfamiliar language.  
“Bastila, can you understand it?” Jason asked.  
“No,” she admitted. “But I think the droid is trying to communicate with us by cycling a variety of languages. Each time it spoke, it was using a very different alien dialect. The droid can probably understand us. The only problem is that it may not have been programmed with the phenomes of a language we can understand.”  
“I can reproduce any of the languages spoken by the slaves of the Builders,” the droid said, finally in a language she and Jason could understand.  
“Hey! I understood that,” Jason said, smiling slightly.  
“I recognize this language as well,” Bastila uttered. “It’s an archaic variant of the Selkath dialect spoken on Manaan. Why would a droid on Dantooine be programmed to speak Ancient Selkath?”  
“Which probably explains why my new translator glitched when it attempted to translate what it said,” Carth grumbled.   
“Communication was vital to ensure that the slaves constructed this temple according to the wishes of the Builders,” the droid explained. “But you are not of the slave species. Neither are you of the Builders. You are like the one who came before.”  
“It must be referring to Revan. The Dark Lord and Malak likely encountered this droid when they explored these ruins,” Bastila observed.   
“What are you?” Jason inquired of the droid. “Why are you here?”  
“I am the Overseer,” the droid explained. “The Builders programmed me to enforce discipline among the slaves while this monument to the power of the Star Forge was constructed. At project completion, all slaves were executed. I was reprogramed to served should a Builder return in search of the knowledge of the Star Forge.”  
“How long have you been here?” Jason asked.  
“My chronological circuits have marked over ten full revolutions of this system’s outermost planet around the sun since the Builders left.”  
“Ten revolutions would take more than twenty thousand years!” Bastila said in disbelief. “If this is true then this droid is nearly five thousand years older than the Republic itself. There must be some mistake.”  
“There is no mistake,” the droid retorted. “The Builders constructed my chronological circuitry using the technology of the Star Forge itself. My calculations are infallible.”  
“What is the Star Forge?” Jason inquired, finally hinging on the query Bastila needed to pursue.  
“The Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their infinite empire. It is a machine of invincible might, a tool of unstoppable conquest.”  
“The droid is obviously not programed with the knowledge we seek,” Bastila said. “The Star Forge sounds like some type of weapon perhaps. Though in fact it could be anything.”  
“Could it be a factory or a weapons plant?” Jason suggested.  
“Maybe, that might explain how the Sith were able to amass a fleet so quickly, however I suspect the Star Forge is more powerful than a mere factory. Maybe the droid has more information we can use; it seems to respond to you. Perhaps, you should it ask it something else.” She wondered if perhaps the Star Forge drew on the dark side.   
“Who are these builders you keep talking about?” Jason asked.  
“The Builders are the great masters of the galaxy, the conquerors of all worlds, the rulers of the infinite empire, and the creators of the Star Forge.”  
“These builders must have been an extinct people, though it is strange there’s no record of their existence. Even the archive of the Jedi academy make no mention of them. In the years before the Republic the Hutts were a dominant force in the galaxy, but they never constructed an empire. In fact, I know of no species that would fit with this information.”  
“Something must have happened to wipe the Builders out,” Jason replied. “Maybe the Builders refers to the Sith.”  
“The empire of the Builders is infinite and everlasting,” the droid said. “None can stand against their might and the power of the Star Forge.”  
“Have you seen a Builder recently?” Jason pointed out the flaw in the droid’s logic.  
“I have been here ever since the completion of the monument. In all this time, no Builder has returned to seek the knowledge of the Star Forge.”  
“What about the ones who came before us, Revan and Malak?” Jason asked.  
“The ones who came before you- the ones like you, not builder but not slaves- sought knowledge of the Star Forge and its origins. They proved themselves worthy. They discovered the secrets of the Star Forge locked behind me. But there was another who failed to unlock the secrets and paid the ultimate price”.   
Bastila flinched as he noted the extensive blaster holes in the corpse of the Jedi who referred to himself as Nemo. The old man had always been friendly, and was willing to be confidential about secrets confided to him as long nobody was in danger of being harmed. The trio entered the room and were attacked by a similar shaped droid. Bastila swore as her lightsaber seemed to have no effect. After what seemed like an eternity of slashing and hacking, the droid finally fell apart.   
Jason fiddled with the computer, before it displayed a question: “identify the primary life-giving seed world types.” He clicked on two, and hesitated.  
“Oceanic,” Bastila prompted. “The third one should be oceanic.”  
Jason rolled his eyes, but followed her suggestion. Then they had to repeat the process with the second droid and identify the primary death giving seed world types. When they finished, and returned to the main room, the grid-like door opened, granting the trio access to the large chamber beyond. The map from Bastila’s dream whirled open, displaying familiar star systems.  
“This must be what Revan and Malak found when they entered this temple,” Bastila said. “This must be where their journey down the Dark side began.”  
“What are you talking about?” Jason inquired, confused.  
“This is a map,” Bastila explained. “Some sort of intergalactic navigational chart. Revan and Malak must have used this to lead them to the Star Forge. We could use this map to follow their path and find the star forge ourselves, but we must be wary. They may have laid traps or concealed what they found.”  
“So, what is the Star Forge exactly?” Carth asked.  
“I’m not sure, but Revan and Malak were very interested in finding it. It may be a tool of some sort, or maybe a weapon. I think this map may be the key to finding the Star Forge.”  
“That sounds like a long shot,” Carth said skeptically. “What if you’re wrong?”  
“What if I’m right, we can’t ignore this.”  
“Either way, we need to inform the Jedi Council,” Jason pointed out, so the trio left behind the Star Map that beckoned with its ancient, dark tendrils.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes set out for Tatooine and the Star Map.

After they made their report, the Jedi Council sent them away so they can discuss whatever highly classified intel they don’t want him to know about. After a light lunch of dried fruit and nuts, Jason was bored out of his mind. Therefore, he decided to finally have a little chat with Carth about the other man’s paranoia. The man’s behavior upset Atton for whatever reason.   
“So, who exactly betrayed you and joined Revan and Malak?” he asked calmly.  
Carth flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“You’ve complained to anyone who will listen about those who defected to Revan and Malak’s army,” Jason pointed out. “Therefore, someone in that group must have betrayed you.”  
“Fine, there was someone,” Carth admitted. “Out of all the men who betrayed us, there’s one who stands out for me, Saul Karath.”  
“That name sounds familiar,” Jason said.  
“With good reason,” Carth explained. “Saul Karath is the Commander of the Sith fleet. He’s half the reason that Malak has done so well in this war. Saul was my commanding officer during the Mandalorian Wars, he led us to many victories. Just after the war, Saul approached me and spoke of how I should know what side I was on. I know now that he was trying to recruit me into the Sith.”  
“When did you find out he’d betrayed you?” Jason asked.  
“When the Sith fleet arrived, and began destroying half our docked ships,” Carth explained. “I knew right away that Saul gave them our launch codes. And I could’ve stopped him.”  
“Don’t beat yourself about it Carth,” Jason said gently.  
“Well, all I know is that if I ever encounter Saul again, I’ll make him pay for what he did!” Carth declared, before storming off.   
Jason couldn’t blame Carth for desiring revenge. He just hoped that it wouldn’t come at the expense of their mission.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
The Mirialan woman known as Electra Lazuli tapped her feet impatiently, as she waited for Darth Malak to complete his audience with Saul Karath and Calo Nord, a notorious bounty hunter. Unlike the officers on the bridge who barely disguised their hatred for the bounty hunter, Electra saw no problem with utilizing him. Hell! Some of her best assassins were former bounty hunters.   
“May we speak away from the ears of the common soldiers?” Saul asked.  
“I hope you are not wasting my time, Saul,” Darth Malak muttered.  
“I assure you my lord, that you will be quite curious to hear about Bastila’s other companions,” Saul said.  
As the group walked by she intercepted Calo Nord, who reluctantly allowed her to pull him aside. She noted that he was only an inch taller than her and Electra was five feet and four inches tall.   
“You’d better have good reason for pulling me aside, lady,” he hissed.  
“You wouldn’t have happened to have spotted a brown-haired human wearing a brown leather armor jacket with Bastila’s group?” she inquired casually as if they were discussing the weather.  
“And if I did spot such a human?” he asked, clearly spotting a potential business proposition.  
“Then I will be willing to pay you two hundred credits for the apprehension of Atton Rand,” Electra said. “I will award an addition one hundred credits if you bring him in alive.”  
“Understood,” Calo Nord said.  
“And I’ll escort you to the meeting room,” Electra said, pleased that her plan worked out and the one loose end in her organization would be eliminated. “You know,” she added as they walked down the corridor. “I may have a place for you in my group. I’m always interested in recruiting new talent so to speak.”  
Calo didn’t reply until they arrived at the door to the conference room. “Thank you, but I prefer to work alone ma’am.”  
Electra shrugged to herself as she left him. There would be time to change the bounty hunter’s mind once he completed his mission.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“I’ll never see you again!” Belaya wailed.  
Juhani gently caressed her girlfriend’s face. She’d never seen herself as the type to have a partner who was not of the Cathar, even worse, a human, the species who stole everything from her family on Taris. But she hadn’t anticipated Belaya, whose sharp tongue concealed a sweet, gentle nature.   
“I need to do this,” Juhani explained. “It will help prove to the Jedi Council that I’m in no danger of falling back under the Dark side.” If there is one thing Juhani regretted, it was the distress her brief embracing of the Dark side caused Belaya.   
“Just be careful Juhani,” Belaya said. “I’m not sure I could bear to lose you again.”  
“I’m not going alone,” Juhani replied, before kissing Belaya on the lips. Juhani hoped that this mission would be short, so she could return to her girlfriend.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Bastila felt apprehension as the group rose early enough in the morning that Dantooine’s sun hasn’t cleared the horizon. The Jedi Council entrusted this mission to her, and she was afraid she would fail them all. Moreover, she wasn’t enthusiastic about feeling the pull of the Dark side from the Star Maps again. She was thankful for the distraction that receiving their clearance to take off brings, but soon the Ebon Hawk made the jump into hyperspace and there was nothing for her to do.   
When she noted Atton shuffling his Pazaak deck, she remembered something she sensed the one time she tried to probe his mind.  
“Atton, do you use pazaak to shield your thoughts?” Bastila inquired.   
Atton frowned. “I just play pazaak,” he replied. “But when I do that, it’s harder for other people to walk in. Do you want play pazaak?”  
Bastila resisted the urge to roll her eyes, which would be extremely immature. Sometimes, she felt like Atton acted as if she was a pedantic younger sibling. “Fine, let’s play.”  
Atton won of course. But instead of crowing about, he asked. “So, what were you thinking about right now?”  
“Pazaak of course,” Bastila replied, wondering if he was going to keep asking rhetorical questions, instead of explaining how he shielded his mind.   
“Good,” Atton said. “I’ll deal again. Now if you’re ever fighting someone with the power over your mind. Play pazaak. Start memorizing hyperspace routes. Recite engine sequences, and when they try to use their powers on you, they won’t work, because you’ll be here with me, playing pazaak where they can’t reach you.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Mission was anxious to get off the ship after a week of tasteless food from the synthesizer since Carth’s cooking talents only went so far. To be honest, the only thing Mission enjoyed from the food synthesizer was the hot chocolate. Unfortunately, Tattooine was blazing hot, and she blinked her eyes from the intense glare of the sun. While the man at the spaceport reassuringly referred to it as a “dry heat”, Mission felt that all the liquid was sucked out of her body, and she was as dry as the sun-bleached carcasses that the desert scavengers poked and prodded at.   
After they departed from the Anchorhead spaceport into the small town, Mission noted that most of the residents were either grumbling miners and moister farmers who drove into town to visit friends and hear the latest gossip. Jason stopped in front of a woman who apparently needed to sell a large wraid plate. Apparently, you needed a hunting license to go out into the desert.   
“Where do I buy a hunting license?” Jason inquired.   
The woman nodded, relieved that they weren’t brushing her off. “My husband bought his license from the Czerka corporation office,” she replied.  
“Thank you,” Jason said. “I’ll pay eight hundred credits for the wraid plate.”  
The woman hugged him tightly in gratitude. “Thank you, whoever you are!”  
“That was a nice thing you did,” Mission commented.  
“It was a small thing,” Jason replied. “Let’s go to the Czerka office, find out about your brother, and buy a hunting license.”  
When they arrived at the Czerka office there was a Duros male who yelled at the head of the Czerka office, who barely restrained herself from kicking out the Duros. The Duros finally spat between the woman’s feet and stalked out of the office.   
“Before you ask, all the positions on our work crews are currently full,” the human woman explained. “And before you ask we are no longer giving out hunting licenses.”  
Shit! This wasn’t good at all, considering they needed to venture out into the desert in order to uncover the location of the Star Map.   
“Why do I need a hunting license?” Jason asked.  
“Because it’s dangerous to venture out into the desert,” the woman replied. “Czerka Corporation only allows select people to venture out into the desert. It’s mostly so we can keep track of people.”   
“Is there no way I could convince you to sell me a hunting license?” Jason gently inquired.  
“Well, we do have a job,” the woman admitted. “The Sand People are making a nuisance of themselves and disrupting our mining operations. If you could eliminate this issue, we would compensate you. Just bring back their gaffi sticks as proof.”  
“Why not have me bring back their heads?” Jason asked sarcastically.  
The woman snorted. “Which would you rather have dumped on your office floor?” she countered. “Besides, each stick is unique to each warrior.”  
“Fine, I’ll do your job,” Jason replied. “What do you know about Griff, a Twi’lek who you employed?”  
“Griff? We don’t have a Griff employed here,” the woman said. However, Mission noted that the woman’s tone was bit too casual.  
“Would fifty credits help refresh your memory?” Jason asked.   
“Oh, that Twi’lek,” the woman said. “We hired that Twi’lek a while back, and he was nothing but trouble. He put in false timesheets, and slept through his shifts. We even suspect he was stealing supplies from Czerka, but we weren’t able to prove it.”  
“Why didn’t you fire him?”   
“We would have fired him, but we needed workers,” the woman explained. “It would have been better for him if he lost his job, since we lost him to a Sand People raid a couple of months ago.”  
“So, you’ll just leave him out there?” Jason asked.  
“All our workers sign an agreement that waives Czerka corporation of any liability,” the woman replied.  
Mission struggled not to burst into tears, as they left the office. She’d finally arrived at the planet Griff was supposed to be on, only to have him snatched away. She zoned out of the conversation Jason had with the Duros, who was apparently a conservationist.   
“Hey, we’ll find him Mission,” Jason said, gently squeezing her hand.  
“Do you want to go back to the ship?” Atton asked.   
Mission took in a deep breath, before exhaling. She couldn’t afford to fall apart now, not when her brother needed her. Griff raised her and taught her everything she knew. Now, it was her turn to rescue her big brother and find out why he’d left her on Taris. “I’ll be fine.”   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Atton empathized with Mission; he’d be on pins and needles if his father was the one being held hostage by Sand People. At least, Bastila Shan was on the Ebon Hawk and he didn’t have to deal with his conflicting feelings about her. On one hand, she was a nosy meddlesome Jedi; on the other hand, she was surprisingly insightful and picked up his technique of playing pazaak in his head within a couple of days. Moreover, there was her claim that he appeared familiar. He was content to focus on their current objective of getting Griff back from the Sand People.   
While Atton would prefer to simply charge into the Sand Peoples’ compound blasters blazing, he recognized it was too risky, since Mission wasn’t as experienced a fighter and the risk that her brother Griff would be killed in the crossfire was simply too great. He just hoped that conservationist’s claim of a protocol droid who comprehended the Sand People language wasn’t simply an urban myth. If it was, they were all screwed.   
The shop was simple, but located near the Anchorhead city gate to the Dune Sea, placing the Ithorian Yuka Laka near the hunters who were his best customers. It was the moment that Atton spotted the red-armored droid that he froze in fear.   
“What’s wrong?” Jason inquired, noting the other man’s distress.  
Atton swallowed before replying. “I’d heard rumors about that droid. They said the Sith used him to eliminate anyone who posed a threat to them.”  
“But he’s a protocol droid,” Jason pointed out.  
“It’s not uncommon for assassin droids to masquerade as protocol droids. The fact the droid has a capacity for languages adds to the ruse.”  
“All right,” Jason said.  
“All right?” Atton asked, confused to Jason’s nonchalant response to the new intel about the droid.   
“I’ll talk to the droid, buy him and use him to negotiate with the Sand People,” Jason explained. “If he shows any signs of moving against us, you have my permission to dismantle him. Understood?”  
Atton nodded, relieved that Jason didn’t discount his advice. The droid, whose designation was HK-47, was evasive of his skills with weapons, which didn’t reassure Atton in the slightest.   
Then came the negotiating with Yuka Laka, who seemed determined to squeeze every credit they possessed out of them.  
“Four thousand or we’re leaving right now!” Jason yelled.  
As the trio moved to exit, Yuka Laka changed his tune abruptly, “All right, that last price I requested was too high. I’ll be happy to accept four thousand credits.”  
“Here you go,” Jason said.  
“You weren’t lying,” the shop owner noted. “Fine, take this miscreant droid off of my hands.”  
Atton played pazaak in his head to steady his heartbeat. He and Jason would ensure that HK-47 behaved itself. If not, Atton could always turn the assassin droid into scrap metal. They just needed to make it through the negotiations with the Sand People in one piece.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Jason was surprised to discover there was something Atton was afraid of, even if it was a supposed assassin droid who once served the Sith. The fact that HK’s personality was that of a loose cannon didn’t help matters at all. At least, Atton agreed that for now they needed HK to ensure their deal with the Sand People went peacefully.  
Before, they could leave Anchorhead a group of Jawas interrupted them.  
“What do they want, HK?” Jason inquired.  
“Statement: ninety eight percent probability that the miniature organic people are being held by Sand People Master,” HK replied. “Doubtless he wishes our assistance.”  
“What about the other two percent?” Jason asked.  
“Statement: two percent probability that the miniature organic is simply looking for trouble and needs to be blasted,” HK said. “That may be wishful thinking on my part Master.”  
Even Atton laughed at HK’s comment.  
“I’m planning on negotiating with the Sand People,” Jason explained. “I will ask about your people and see if I can get them released.”  
HK translated this, and the Jawa seemed pleased. “Explanation: the miniature organic says he has a reward for us if we can return his people safely to him.”  
The group then had to show their papers to the gate guard, who acted surly and examined the papers thoroughly as if he was convinced they must be forgeries. “They seem to be in order,” he said, finally. “Good hunting out there.”  
Surprisingly, it was Mission who suggested they disguise themselves as Sand People. “That way, we’re able to reach their compound without being attacked,” she pointed out.  
Jason swore, as he was struck with yet another grenade that froze him. Fortunately, Atton seemed to be having better luck and tag teamed to take down one of the Sand People. Once he was free, Jason jumped and engaged the one Sand person who wasn’t fighting Mission and Atton. He nimbly dodged the gaffi stick and feinted, before attempting to attack the Sand person’s unprotected side.   
Clang! His first strike was blocked, and the warrior managed to cut Jason’s right arm with a sharp jab. Suddenly, the warrior fell to the ground dead. HK stood behind the corpse, having managed to sneak up behind the warrior.  
“Thanks, HK,” Jason said, admitting that the droid proved himself to be useful in combat.  
“Statement: I am pleased to have been of assistance,” HK said with pride.  
After they cleaned the bloodstains off the Sand People outfits as best as they could, they donned them, although Mission’s barely fit her, and they debated whether HK needed a disguise. As they entered Sand People territory, Jason observed that the disguises were an excellent idea, since the Sand People patrolling the area ignored them. When they arrived at the entrance to the compound, they were blocked by a Sand person who wasn’t fooled by their disguise.   
“Interjection: one moment, I believe I understood that Master,” HK said. “It may not have been his intention, but he did actually communicate something.”  
“Quickly, tell him we aren’t a threat!” Jason said, taking the first opportunity to broker peace.  
After HK spoke to the Sand person he added, “result: I believe I have succeeded in confusing him Master. We have shown an interest not common among outsiders.”  
“Apologize for being here,” Jason commanded. “Say we want peace.”  
After another exchange, HK said, “Translation: he is expressing disbelief as am I, but his duty requires that he report to his chieftain. Extrapolation: It seems we are worthy of curiosity for the moment. I would much rather this get bloody Master, but it is your call.”  
They were led through the enclave to a central meeting room where a group of Sand People stood clustered around one in more elaborate robes who was obviously their leader. Jason and his friends were forced to take off their Sand People robes and the leader of the Sand People expressed his displeasure at their presence loudly.  
“Translation: I can translate with some guarantee of accuracy that he is demanding to know why he should let us survive this encounter, Master.”  
“Tell him we want a peaceful solution,” Jason said.  
After an exchange, HK said, “Translation: he claims he has no reason to believe you Master. Your kind have tainted this land with uncaring machines and ignorant feet. Translation: he requires proof of good faith. We must make a contribution to his people that shows we are not a threat. Shall I blast him now, Master?”  
Jason guessed that there was something the Sand People’s leader wanted. He just hoped it wasn’t too difficult for him to acquire. “Ask him what it is he wants,” Jason said.  
After another exchange, HK explained, “Translation: he plans to move his people farther from Anchorhead. But they need to build up stores of water first. He says you must aid him. Translation: he wants moisture vaporators from the Czerka. You deliver them, and he will order that his people will reduce their attacks on miners.”  
It was better than nothing, Jason reflected. “Tell him that we will get his vaporators for him.”  
“Translation: he doesn’t believe you,” HK said. “We will not be allowed to re-enter the enclave until we have the moisture vaporators.”  
That didn’t surprise Jason at all; he wouldn’t trust a group of strangers if they were hanging around his home. “So, here’s the plan,” Jason explained. “I’ll distract the Czerka officer by asking for the money for the gaffi sticks we already have. Atton, you’ll talk to the Czerka store manager and see if he’ll sell us some moisture vaporators. Then we’ll head back to the enclave and deliver them. Hopefully, if we do what they ask, the chieftain will release the Jawas and Mission’s brother.”  
The group trekked back to the gate to Anchorhead, with Atton swearing up a storm when a clump of sand blew into his face and he struggled to spit it out. Along with the unrelenting heat, the sand seemed to seep through their clothes and clung to their skin.   
“Query: would you be so kind as to clean the sand out of my joints Master?” HK asked, grumbling. “Soon I won’t be able to move my joints.”  
“We’re almost there HK,” Jason said.  
“Statement: ‘almost’ isn’t very reassuring,” HK replied.  
Fortunately, they arrived at the gate, and after Jason thoroughly cleaned HK’s joints of dirt and sand, they set off for the Czerka office. The woman didn’t seem to impressed to see them, although she immediately paid Jason for the regular gaffi sticks. Jason glanced at Atton, who gave him the thumbs up sign, indicating that his attempt to purchase the moisture vaporators was successful.   
“Don’t worry ma’am,” Jason said. “We’ll stop those Sand People as soon as we can.”  
Since Atton decided he didn’t want to head back out into the desert, Jason sent him back to the Ebon Hawk to get some rest. As it turned out, the only one willing to go out into the unforgiving desert was Bastila.  
“You’re planning to deceive Czerka into believing you’ve wiped out the Sand People when in reality they will be moving to a location farther away?” she inquired.  
“Yes, does that bother you?” Jason asked.  
“Not at all considering the evils Czerka has committed in the past,” Bastila replied.  
They quickly exited Anchorhead and the rest of the journey was a blur in Jason’s mind. When he suddenly tripped, Bastila caught him nimbly, before quickly moving away. The feelings between them seemed to grow every day like seedling, but Jason pushed them aside since Bastila felt that acting on them would be disrespectful to the Jedi code.  
When they arrived at the Sand People enclave, the chieftain seemed surprised that they had come through on their deal and presented the group with his personal gaffi stick. Jason then inquired about any prisoners they had.  
“Statement: Be more specific Master, as they have captured many prisoners,” HK said.  
“The Jawas?” Jason asked.  
HK quickly confirmed that the chieftain was willing to release the Jawas since they weren’t very good workers.   
“There’s also a Twi’lek named Griff,” Jason explained.  
“Statement: He says that by his very presence, this Griff defiles his tribe and that he is without any semblance of usefulness,” HK said.  
“Yeah, that sounds like my brother all right,” Mission stated wistfully.  
“Statement: I assume we may take him with us if we wish to,” HK said.  
While Atton freed that Jawas, Mission and Jason opened the door to Griff’s holding cell.  
“Hey, I’m an important executive for Czerka Corporation so if you could free me, I would really appreciate it,” Griff said.  
“Griff?” Mission asked.  
“Mission is that you? You weren’t on Taris after all! That’s great news!” Griff crowed.  
“Griff? I have to ask you something. Lena, said it was your idea to leave me on Taris. Is that true?”  
Griff shrugged. “Well, you see there’s truth and there’s truth. I knew you would be fine on Taris.”  
“I’m your sister Griff! How could you abandon me like that!” she yelled.  
“Hey, you did fine and you made here, so that’s all that matters,” Griff argued. “Could you spare me some credits.”  
“You’re hitting me up for credits?” Mission asked in disbelief. “Lena was right about you.”  
“Just get out of here,” Jason told him. “The Sand People said you could leave.” After Griff left, Mission hugged Jason tightly.  
“I can’t believe that Griff would do that to me!” Mission said.  
“I’m sorry,” Jason replied.  
“No, it’s not your fault,” she reassured him. “Anyways, thanks for helping my brother.”  
With the revelation of Griff’s abandonment of Mission hanging over them, none of the group felt like talking much on the long walk back to the Ebon Hawk.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Bastila was surprised the next morning when Atton suggested that they go get breakfast together at one of the cantinas. “It will give Mission some time to herself,” he said. “Plus, we can find out if anyone knows about the Star Map.”  
While Jason received a map of the eastern Dune Sea from the Jawas in recognition for freeing their people from the Sand People, he took Canderous’ advice and was currently buying a huge supply of water for their trip. Carth and Canderous decided to accompany him. Zaalbar was playing pazaak with Mission in order to take her mind off her brother’s betrayal. Juhani was meditating in one of the cargo compartments, so Bastila decided not to disturb her.   
Atton seemed surprisingly upbeat as they walked through the streets of Anchorhead to the cantina. Since they arrived early, they got seats at the bar, and Atton ordered them both a dish he called hearth cakes, a pair of round flat-bread with dried fruit in the center. They were surprisingly filling.  
Just then, the face of the last person she wanted to see came into view, her mother, Helena Shan. Helena’s brown eyes made contact with Bastila’s gray ones and the woman made a beeline for the counter.   
“Bastila, I’ve been looking all over for you!” she yelled.  
“What do you want?” Bastila hissed. “And where’s father?”  
Her mother sighed. “Then you haven’t heard. Your father’s dead Bastila.”  
“How? What kind of scheme did you get him into?” Bastila demanded.  
“Such sweet words,” Helena said. “And who is this?”  
“I’m Atton Rand,” Atton introduced himself.   
“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Verus Rand?” Helena inquired.  
“He was my father,” Atton replied. “He died not long after I enlisted in the Mandalorian Wars.”  
“Oh, I see.”  
After several seconds, Bastila couldn’t handle the suspense any longer. “What does this have to do with Father?”  
Helena sighed. “Bastila, if what this man says is true, then he is your half-brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it wouldn't be Star Wars without a surprise family relationship.


	12. Chapter 12

Atton felt as if the ground had been pulled from underneath him; something that only occurred once when that woman told him about his abilities, and he’d abandoned his post for Nar Shaddaa. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.  
“No, I’m not joking darling,” Helena replied. “Although, you could always take a DNA test to confirm it. I lost contact with Verus after we divorced and he got custody of you.”  
“So, what exactly happened to Father?” Bastila asked, eager to change the subject. Atton didn’t blame her in the slightest, as their connection made him wary. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about being related to a Jedi.   
“Your father went on a hunt for krayt dragon pearls and was killed,” Helena replied.   
“How do you know, Father was an experienced hunter...”  
“Do you think I would attempt to contact you if it wasn’t true?” Helena asked. “Several of his companions escaped the dragon and informed me.”  
“What do you want exactly?” Bastila inquired, anxiously glancing back at the door to the cantina as though she were contemplating simply walking out.  
“I want you to use those senses of yours and find your father’s holocron,” Helena said.  
“Why? So, you can sell it?!” Bastila sniped back.  
“Is it too hard for you to believe that I simply want to have a part of my husband to remember him by?” Helena said.   
“So then why don’t you get the holocron yourself Mom?” Atton asked, willing to believe that she wasn’t deceiving him about their blood tie.  
“As your sister could no doubt tell you, I’m not the adventurer my husband was,” Helena said. “Nor do I have the coin to hire another expedition.”  
“Fine, I’ll look for the holocron Mother,” Bastila said. “But I make no promises about what I’ll do with it.”  
“I believe your father went east of the Sand People Enclave into the Eastern Dune Sea,” Helena said. “Good luck.”  
Atton decided that now would be a good time to pay the bill and leave. Bastila didn’t say anything, but he could almost sense her anxiety. The sooner they got a DNA test, the sooner they could move on. Atton had never grown up with a sibling as his father never re-married, seemingly preferring the life of a bachelor. However, there had been the Sal-Solos, whose brood numbered five. Their second youngest, Brandon, had been Atton’s age, and he’d gone over there to play almost every day. While, he didn’t envy the times when Brandon’s two brothers hid his friend’s toys, he’d felt wistful the time one of them held Brandon gently after an insect stung his friend.  
Thankfully, the others were still out when they returned to the Ebon Hawk. Mission however, was there to greet them, and seemed more upbeat. “So how was breakfast?” she asked.   
“It was fine,” Atton informed her, as Bastila darted to the ship’s medical room. He could tell that Mission was curious about Bastila’s frantic behavior, since the Jedi prided herself on being calm and collected.  
He followed Bastila into the medical room, and was handed a swab by Bastila.  
“Make sure your teeth are clean before you put the swab in,” she instructed, and Atton went to the refresher to do just that. When he returned, Bastila was placing her swab into a container in the wall.  
“How soon until we find out?” Atton asked, as he slid his swab into the machine.   
“We’ll know by this evening,” Bastila replied, and immediately left for the dormitory she shared with Mission and Juhani.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Jason was surprised to find that Bastila and Atton seemed on edge when he returned with Canderous and Carth. At least they were stocked up on water for tomorrow’s expedition into the Dune Sea. Surprisingly, both Atton and Bastila jumped to come along with him. Jason granted their request since he might be able to get some answers about what had them both on edge.   
The desert seemed to go on for miles, and Jason felt that no matter how much water his put into his body, the desert sun seemed to suck it all up. He was relieved when he finally spotted the cave, although he noted that a Twi’lek was already there.   
“What do you think we should do?” Jason asked his companions.  
“We should talk to him,” Bastila suggested. “He seems like someone who may have more knowledge about this place then we do. Besides, I’ve heard that there’s a krayt dragon nearby.”  
Atton nodded in agreement, which was surprising considering the man made it clear that he wasn’t fond of Jedi. Jason decided to approach the Twi’lek, who greeted him as though he were a long-lost friend. When the Twi’lek explained that he needed to draw the bantha herd in order to lure out the krayt dragon, Jason was eager until he mentioned the Sand People.  
“I worked out a deal with the Sand People,” he replied.  
“These aren’t the Sand People who harass Czerka,” the Twi’lek explained. “This tribe is used to living in the deep desert and is far more ruthless towards anyone who crosses them.”  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jason said, and then walked over to explain the situation to Atton and Bastila.   
Atton shrugged. “Well, we kicked their asses last time, so this shouldn’t be a problem.”  
“Be careful Atton,” Bastila cautioned. “It wouldn’t be wise to underestimate them.”  
“Yes Mom,” Atton said sarcastically.   
As they laid out the fodder for the herd, Jason reflected that the banter between Atton and Bastila was sibling-like, and resolved to ask what exactly happened yesterday. Just then, four Sand People emerged from behind one of the dunes. Jason raced to meet one of them, and barely the warrior’s gaffi stick. In his peripheral vision, he noted that Atton and Bastila were struggling take on three of the warriors.  
Jason feinted and then finally spotted a weakness in the warrior’s defense and slashed his lightsaber, cutting off the warrior’s right hand. In spite of an eerie howl, the warrior continued to hack and slash at Jason, until he found another opening and aimed his lightsaber for it. For a heartbeat, he could almost feel the Sand Person’s glare until Jason pulled his weapon back, and the warrior flopped onto the sand, dead.   
Just then, Jason heard a scream, and felt a jab of pain in his shoulder. Bastila! Jason ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Bastila was still putting up a fight against two of the Sand People, but was tiring. Atton couldn’t assist her as he fought his own battle with what appeared to be the most experienced fighter. Jason ignited his lightsaber, and stabbed through the warrior’s back, hoping Bastila would forgive his disregard for the Jedi Code. With one of her opponents taken care of, Bastila easily pivoted and brought down the other warrior. Without missing a beat, she jumped into Atton’s duel. With two opponents to contend with, the warrior began to tire, and Atton easily finished his opponent off.   
As they walked with the herd of banthas following behind them, Jason heard two words he thought he never hear from Bastila. “Thank you.”  
“No problem,” he replied, as he approached the Twi’lek hunter who looked relieved that they survived largely unscathed. With the approach of the herd, the krayt dragon finally emerged from its den, its green and yellow scales glittering in the desert sun. As the animal walked forward, it was beset by mines until it screamed its death knell and flopped into the sand.  
“Thank you for your assistance,” the Twi’lek said. “I will leave the spoils to you.”  
“Who wants the krayt dragon pearl?” Jason inquired as he carefully carved the body of the dragon until the pearl slid out and rolled onto the sand. He glanced at Bastila, who shook her head vigorously.   
“No offence, but I don’t think I really need a pearl,” Atton said.   
“You could think of it as a birthday present,” Bastila said. “A really late birthday present.”  
Atton sighed. “Well, if you’re sure, then I guess I’ll take it.”  
Jason handed the pearl to Atton, who tucked it into one of his pockets. As Jason walked into the cave, he couldn’t help but feel this place was familiar and not just because he’d experienced it in a vision. There was also that feeling of an ancient, dark energy calling out to him like a beacon.   
“I have a bad feeling about this map,” Atton said, his breathing uneven.   
“It’s possible that the krayt dragon was drawn by the dark energies of the Star Map, only to be enslaved by it,” Bastila mused.  
“Look, I found the holocron,” Atton said, as he picked up a cracked holocron that was still working.  
“Speaking of which, could either of you tell me what the Sith has you both acting weird?” Jason demanded.  
Surprisingly, it was Bastila who answered his query. “I found my mother at the cantina, and she told me that Atton and I are half-siblings. We even did a DNA test on the Ebon Hawk and confirmed what she said.”  
“But what does that have to do with the holocron?” Jason asked.   
This time Atton chimed in. “Bastila’s father was killed by the krayt dragon and our mother wanted us to retrieve the holocron.”  
“I’m just not sure if I want to give it to her,” Bastila admitted.  
“Well we won’t be entering Anchorhead for at least a couple of hours, so you have time to decide,” Jason said.   
Suddenly, Jason heard the hum of speeders approaching the cave. He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. On an unspoken signal, he walked to the entrance, Bastila and Atton flanking on either side. Calo Nord hopped out of one of the speeders, eager for blood. With him, were a group of Duros and humans. Fortunately, none of them appeared to be experienced hunters apart from Calo.   
“I have to give you credit,” Calo said. “You’ve led me on quite a chase. But nobody gets away from Calo Nord in the end.”  
“So, since you got your ass kicked fighting us last time, you’ve decided to try your luck again?” Atton snarked.   
“You got lucky on Taris; the Sith attack saved you from a quick and gruesome death. But I promise you, the Sith won’t be getting in my way this time!”  
“Hold on Calo, we could make a deal,” Jason suggested, more to satisfy the Jedi Code then actually believing that Calo Nord would accept the offer. The man felt shamed by his defeat on Taris, and only blood would restore his reputation.   
“Sorry, but I don’t make deals with dead men,” Calo replied. “Let’s go boys. It’s show time.”  
Jason raced towards the group, easily deflecting blaster bolts with his lightsaber. He aimed for Calo Nord, who drew a vibroblade and ran to meet him. In his peripheral vision, Jason noted that Atton and Bastila tag teamed to fight Calo’s friends, who clearly had very little experience with fighting Jedi.   
Jason dodged Calo’s first attack and attempted to push his lightsaber past Calo’s defenses only to be blocked. Calo was an experienced fighter and wasn’t falling for any of Jason’s usual tricks. Worse still, Jason could feel himself tiring from the fight, and it wouldn’t be long before Calo would get past his defenses.  
Suddenly, Calo stiffened and fell to the sand. Bastila stood there, calm and methodical. Jason was struck by how lovely she looked. “Thank you,” Jason said.  
“I was just helping out,” Bastila replied. But, there was an electric current that passed between them via their Force bond, and Jason sensed that his relationship with Bastila was changing into something else.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Bastila attempted to not think about Jason as they made the long trek back into Anchorhead. She knew that her feelings for Jason were against the Jedi Code and were dangerous. However, she couldn’t get the camaraderie that had developed between them out of her mind. It wasn’t until they arrived at the Anchorhead cantina that she was finally able to focus on whether to give her mother the holocron.   
Helena Shan did seem relieved to see them. “You’re back! Have you found the holocron?”  
“I have the holocron Mother, but I’m not sure if I want to give it to you,” Bastila admitted.  
“Bastila!” Atton hissed, not happy with his sister’s comment. It was still odd for her to think of Atton as her brother.   
Surprisingly, it was Jason who seemed to understand her feelings best. “Do you really want the last time you spoke with your mother to be a negative experience?”  
“You’re right,” Bastila said. “Very well, I’m sorry Mother.”  
“It’s all right dear,” Helena said. “I wasn’t a very good mother to you. I can see that now. Your father wanted you to be a treasure hunter like him. But I said it was too risky.”  
“Is that why you gave me to the Order?” Bastila inquired.  
“What do your father and I have to show for all that traveling around? Nothing except debts and scars,” Mother replied. “I wanted something more for you.”  
“You couldn’t stop him from going on dangerous hunts,” Jason noted, his tone thoughtful.  
Her mother shook her head. “I tried to keep him from the more dangerous hunts, but he would have none of it. That’s why he went for the pearls, to pay for my treatments. I begged him not to, but he wouldn’t listen.”  
“Treatments?” Bastila and Atton asked simultaneously.   
“The truth is that I’m dying,” she said.   
“Then I’ll give you the holocron,” Bastila said.  
Her mother shook her head. “Keep the holocron Bastila,” she replied. “I have a feeling that you’ll need it far more than I do.”  
Bastila pulled out a pile of credits from her pockets and attempted to hand them to her mother. “Here’s all the credits I have,” she explained. “Go to Coruscant and find a doctor. I’ll meet you there once our mission is done.”  
“But I already told you that there’s nothing….”  
“Please, we want to see you again,” Bastila said, not willing to cut the new tie she could potentially forge with her mother. Atton nodded and added credits to the pile on the table.   
“Oh, all right,” Mother said, giving in. “Both of you look after each other.”  
“We will,” Atton declared, as the trio left the cantina. Surprisingly, Bastila found herself smiling a little.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Under different circumstances, anger was an excellent tool, especially against those meddlesome Jedi. However, Electra Lazuli knew that her ire wouldn’t solve the nuisance that her former student Atton Rand had become. Calo Nord failed in his missions both to Lord Malak and to herself. Therefore, she needed to employ a new strategy before her masters caught wind of her protégé’s betrayal.   
“Come in,” she said, as the door to her office slid open to admit a blue-skinned Twi’lek male, who while not her best student was able to accomplish objectives without too much collateral damage. The Twi’lek seemed a little anxious at what his teacher planned for him. At least Electra didn’t insist that her followers kneel before her like kath hounds begging for scraps. That was more Lord Malak’s prerogative.   
“There is a renegade student who needs to be tracked down and brought back,” she explained. “His name is Atton Rand, and he was last seen on Tattooine. I will provide you with a substantial credit account that you may utilize to track him down.”  
“Mistress do you want him brought back alive or dead?” the man inquired.  
That was an excellent question, and one Electra pondered herself over the past few weeks of this endless hunt. While initially she’d wanted Atton brought back alive, her thoughts on the matter were becoming more flexible in light of her need to finish this business before Lord Malak found out. “I want you to bring him back alive if that’s possible. If not, then you don’t need to bring him back at all.”  
The man nodded. “Of course, mistress. I will return when I have accomplished my mission.”  
As the Twi’lek male walked out of her office another visitor entered, and her eyed her curiously. “What was that about?” Darth Bandon asked.  
Electra playfully rolled her eyes at her paramour. “Nothing that concerns you.”  
“I just would hate to have Lord Malak replace you is all,” he said. “Actually, I was wondering if you had some free time before I leave on another mission.”  
As Electra pretended to considered Bandon’s offer, she mused that it was ironic that her latest partner was Force sensitive given her usual disdain for Force users. “I’m always willing to make some free time for you. Where do you want to go? In my chambers or on my desk?”  
Bandon kissed her lips as though he were a thirsty man who just discovered an oasis of water and whispered, “On your desk.”  
“Of course, darling,” Electra replied, looking forward to an exciting interlude that would allow her forget about a certain belligerent deserter and help unwind the tension that radiated from her body.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“I just don’t know what to do Big Z,” Mission admitted. “On one hand, I don’t trust my brother not to cheat us out of any potentials profits for his latest scheme. But if we don’t help him, the Exchange will break his legs. Griff may be a cheat, but he doesn’t deserve to be beaten up.”  
Zaalbar, unfortunately, just shrugged. In fact, Mission noted that her best friend seemed uncomfortable discussing her brother. It was the same cagey expression he sported whenever she attempted to inquire about his past on Kashyyyk. Well, if Big Z didn’t want to talk about it, she would just have to figure out what to do by herself.  
The others didn’t comment about Mission’s quietness during their dinner of nerf steaks and a root-like plant that Bastila called a sweet potato. But then again, they appeared to have their own issues if the tension between Bastila and Jason was anything to go by. Juhani wasn’t a conversationalist, and Jason had to persuade her to eat dinner with the rest of the group instead of secluding herself in the cargo hold. Only Carth attempted to get a conversation going and he admitted defeat after Mission answered several of his questions with terse replies.   
Finally, Mission decided to approach Jason after dinner and ask for his assistance. Jason listened, before finally replying, “I’ll see what I can do about getting those tac glands, but this is the last time I’m helping your brother.”  
Mission nodded. “I understand, and thank you Jason. What you’re doing means a lot to me.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
As Carth and Bastila gently landed the Ebon Hawk, onto one of the landing platforms high in the tree tops, Jason could sense tension so thick, his lightsaber couldn’t cut through it. After some deliberation, Jason decided to take Carth and Mission with him. The human man who was the Czerka welcoming committee, eagerly allowed Jason to avoid the docking fee, if Jason agreed to browse the Czerka store. Advertising at its finest.   
An independent merchant Eli greeted him, and said, “I have the best quality goods you can find on Kashyyyk.”  
“That’s easy if the only other store is Czerka,” the other man snarked.  
“Now that’s not very nice Matton,” Eli said. “Especially since I was thoughtful enough to take you on when your crew abandoned you here, and owed a massive amount of debt to me.”  
As they walked away, Mission said. “Does that situation seem a bit fishy to you?”  
Jason nodded. “It does at that. If we have time, I’ll look into it.”  
They entered the Czerka store, and Jason was relieved he’d decided to leave Zaalbar behind, since the Ithorian proprietor of the store was very demeaning of the Wookiees, and Jason needed to avoid an open conflict with Czerka in order to locate the Star Map, even if their enslavement of the Wookiees infuriated all of them. He noted that Mission barely restrained herself from punching the man. If they managed to avoid kicking off a war, it would be a miracle.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Zaalbar never expected to return to Kashyyyk after his father banished him. He’d traveled on various different freighters, until he’d finally arrived on Taris, a citywide metropolis that was as different from his homeworld as it was possible for a planet to be. Unfortunately, as one of the only Wookiees on the planet, he’d stood out. Thankfully, he’d met Mission, who was eager for a friend who didn’t condescend, because she was young. His brawn was matched perfectly with her street smarts, and for a few years, he’d been content.   
However, being back on his homeworld brought back the bad memories, of his mother’s death at the hands of slave traders, and his own exile. The scar of his father believing his brother’s deception still stung. The fact that Czerka had now set up an official outpost and claimed the planet as their own, infuriated him. While part of him wanted to seek revenge for his people, he couldn’t bring trouble to Mission, or to Jason, whom he owed a life debt.   
Suddenly, two Wookiees stormed the ship. “You shouldn’t have returned Zaalbar,” one of them said. “Chuundar wants to speak with you.”  
That confused Zaalbar since the last time he’d been among his people, his father Freyyr was in charge. Then again, the last time he’d been on his homeworld, Czerka hadn’t audaciously established an official outpost.   
Atton stormed into the main hold from the cockpit and yelled. “Hey, what the hell are you doing on our ship?! Leave Zaalbar alone!”  
Under different circumstances, Zaalbar would be ecstatic that someone in their group besides Mission or Jason cared about what happened to him. Just then, Bastila approached the group and gently grabbed Atton’s arms.   
“Atton,” she said. “We can’t afford to start a fight. I’ll speak to them and see if I can accompany Zaalbar to wherever they are taking them.”  
Atton appeared displeased at Bastila’s suggestion. However, he glanced at the two Wookiees and decided that his odds of beating both warriors weren’t good. “Fine,” he spat. “However, if you don’t return her in two hours, I’m coming after you, even if I have to burn the whole Sith forsaken forests on this planet down!”  
One of the warriors named Drantoc nodded. “This is acceptable to us.”  
As they escorted him off the ship and into the trees, Zaalbar silently apologized to Jason, Mission, and the others for the hindrances his presence on Kashyyyk would cause.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Mission was disappointed that Jason opted to have Zaalbar stay on the Ebon Hawk instead of accompanying them. She daydreamed about Big Z’s homeworld, and fantasized they would swing through the trees, like those actors in an obscure holo vid her brother took her to once. Moreover, she hoped that being home would prompt Zaalbar to finally reveal his mysterious past. However, the situation was different than Mission imagined it with them walking along pathways high up in the trees. Czerka was in charge of the planet, and while a Wookiee was in charge, he was only a puppet for the corporate regime that thrived off the slave trade.   
She’d barely kept control of herself when they’d been escorted to the Wookiee village, and two other warriors entered with her friend Big Z and Bastila. Apparently, the Wookiees somehow got wind of the Zaalbar’s presense.   
“Did you really think I wouldn’t know that my brother was on board your ship?” Chuundar asked arrogantly, and Mission found herself thankful that Griff wasn’t as bad as Zaalbar’s brother was.   
“What have you done to our father?!” Zaalbar demanded.   
Chuundar didn’t seem bothered by his brother’s accusations. “Our father went away. You know he’s been unstable ever since mother was killed by slavers.”  
“What do you want in return for Zaalbar’s return?” Jason inquired, finally hitting on the true reason for Zaalbar’s abduction.   
“There is a mad Wookiee who is causing problems for Czerka,” Chuundar replied. “If you take care of him for me than I will release Zaalbar.”  
Jason frowned, clearly upset at doing Chuundar’s dirty work, but he didn’t have much of a choice, not while they held Zaalbar hostage. “Very well, we will do as you ask.”  
“Excellent,” Chuundar declared, and with that they were escorted out of the main hall, and into the village.  
“Don’t worry Big Z!” Mission yelled. “We’ll get you out of this place.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes meet a new ally, and some secrets of Atton's come to light.

It was muggy mornings like this, Jolee Bindo yearned for company. Not that the solitude didn’t have its perks, but it had been too long since he’d carried on a conversation with anyone, since even the Wookiees no longer ventured into the Shadowlands with Czerka on the prowl. He didn’t count the poachers as someone he would wish to have a conversation with, since they trampled through the forest with more noise than a herd of bomas, and hunted the wildlife indiscriminately. To add insult to injury, instead of only taking what they needed to survive as he did, they hunted for sport, and their leader in particular was a repugnant man who sneered at Jolee when the Jedi gently suggested that their hunting wasn’t beneficial to the environment. In fact, he was ecstatic when four katarns ambushed him, because he was starved for any sort of excitement.   
He nimbly dodged, the first round of attacks, and one by one, defeated the four katarns. At least, he only killed when the wildlife decided to attack him, or when the Wookiees invited him on one of their hunts. One of the katarns would make a lovely steak dinner if he needed the meat, in order to ensure that his body possessed enough protein. It was only after he took down the animals that he realized he had an audience. A group consisting of two human men, a teenage Twi’lek girl, and a human woman watched him warily. Belatedly, Jolee realized that utilizing his lightsaber may not have been the best move, considering that Darth Malak employed Jedi hunters who would be all two happy to capture him. However, he sensed that this group weren’t Jedi hunters, although two of the group were clearly in tune with the Force.  
“Are you a Jedi?” the man with brown hair and green eyes who was clearly the leader of the group inquired.   
“I used to be,” Jolee said. “I fought in the war against Exar Kun, and now I live in a hut. If you would like to speak more, follow me to my home.”  
Jolee set a grueling pace down the path to his humble hut and was impressed that the others managed to keep pace. When he sat down at one of the stumps outside his small hut, the others immediately copied him. “So, what can I do for your motley crew?” Jolee asked.  
“So why did you leave the Jedi?” the brown haired human woman asked, her strong Force signature brimming with curiosity. Jolee wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first time this young woman encountered a former Jedi, since they weren’t on the list of people Jedi Masters enjoyed introducing to their pupils.   
“I can sense you’re inquisitive, but I would prefer not to talk about it,” Jolee replied.   
“Actually, we’re looking for a Star Map,” the leader of the group said. “And we’re wondering if you’ve seen it.”  
“I figured the problems of Czerka and the Wookiees weren’t why you’re here,” he said. “No, you’re after the map. All right, I will assist you. But only after you have done a favor for me.”   
Jason nodded in agreement. “What exactly do you want us do?” he politely inquired.   
“Czerka sent some people down and they are disturbing the wildlife with their hunting,” Jolee explained. “They’re nothing better than poachers, and many of the smaller animals are suffering, because of them.”  
“I’ll see what I can do,” Jason said.  
Jolee insisted on treating them to a lunch of root leaf stew, before seeing them off. It would be interesting to see how this group handled the situation with the poachers.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
As their group fought through the katarns, Jason reflected that for someone who claimed to no longer be a Jedi, Jolee followed the code devoutly. He utilized only what he required to survive in the wilderness, and insisted on giving his visitors a warm, healthy meal before they left.   
“So, have you heard of Jedi who left before?” he inquired.  
Bastila nodded. “There are a few, such as Zayne, who technically turned down the chance to take his trials. But most of them still work with the Jedi Order in some capacity.”   
When he noted her troubled look, he said, “Don’t worry I’m not planning on leaving the Jedi Order, especially since Malak and his cronies are after me.”  
Just then Carth jumped into the conversation, “I hate to interrupt, but I think I found the remains of a droid.”  
Mission immediately volunteered to help repair the droid. Once she’d fiddled with it, a recording played, revealing Eli’s treachery. Bastila appeared troubled, and Carth’s eyes blazed with an ire that would’ve burned the entire forest down. However, it was Mission who was the most incensed at Eli’s deception.   
“That double crossing piece of bantha shit!” Mission yelled. “He killed Matton’s friends and tricked Matton into binding himself for a fictitious debt!”  
Carth gently placed a hand on Mission’s shoulder, a legacy of a time when he was a father. “Don’t worry, we’re going to stop him.”  
“That’s right,” Jason said. “Once we stop Jolee’s poachers, you and Bastila can return to the docking platform and show Matton this recording. Then Eli won’t be able to swindle him any longer.”  
Mission demonstrated her resolve to avenge Matton’s fallen crewmates when she didn’t object to being removed from the firing line again. Just then, several katarns charged them. Jason, Mission, and Bastila moved to intercept them, while Carth provided cover fire. The first katarn fell to Jason’s lightsaber, and he raced to assist Mission who was struggling against her opponent. The beast struggled to fend off the pair of them, and Jason spotted an opening in the katarn’s defense. His lightsaber dove into it, and the beast fell to the forest floor. When Jason turned, Bastila easily finished off her katarn.   
The poacher’s camp was easy to find, but the elderly gray-haired man in charge was annoyed at their presence. “Did that doddering old man send you?” he spat. “I’ve already explained to him that we can’t all live in stumps like he does.”  
“I was just going to suggest you leave,” Jason uttered politely.  
“I told that wrinkled old coot already that we aren’t leaving as long as Czerka requires our presence down here.”  
“Fine, then we’ll leave,” Jason said, disappointed that his diplomacy ended in failure.  
“Good,” the man said with relish. “I’m not down here to direct traffic.”  
The group moved a few paces away. “Any ideas?” Jason asked.  
“Those sensors are what’s probably keeping them here since they protect against wild animals,” Mission said. “Knowing Czerka, they probably have anti-hacking measures installed, so I can’t just disable them without the code.”  
“We could split up and bribe several of the Czerka guards for the codes to disable the sensors,” Bastila suggested. “If enough sensors go down, they’ll have to leave.”  
Jason nodded, acknowledging that Bastila’s plan was an excellent one. “We can split up, so the man in charge doesn’t suspect our plans,” he explained. “Does everyone have a few credits?”  
After confirming that everyone possessed the credits necessary for the bribe, Jason approached his guard, a brown skinned human male who grumbled about working in the “wilderness” and was willing to give him the code, in exchange for a few credits. The sensor easily shut down along with several others. Apparently, his friends’ bribes were successful.  
“What? What’s happening?!” the man in charge bellowed.  
Suddenly, a large sickly green creature on two legs charged into the poachers’ camp.  
“Run, men! Run!” the man screamed, leading the mass exodus from the camp.  
Thankfully, the monster didn’t return, and Jason found some interesting goods inside the poachers’ crates. “Mission, I’ve found those tach glands your brother Griff requires,” he said.  
Mission beamed in gratitude for his assistance. Jason knew that one-day Mission would need to face her brother’s selfish behavior, but he was willing to let her crow in triumph over her victory.  
Just then, he noticed that Bastila sat on the ground shivering in fright. The icy cold panic flowed uncontrolled through their bond, and he struggled to not succumb to her terror. Cautiously, Jason put his arms around her. She didn’t move away and snuggled against his chest. “Are you ok, Bastila?”  
Bastila shook herself and stood up. “I’m fine,” she said. “That thing we encountered was a terentatek, a Jedi killer. I guess, they must have come out of hibernation, because of Revan and Malak.”   
“Then we’ll be very careful the next time we come down into the Shadowlands,” Jason replied.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Bastila was ashamed that her fear overcame her sense and training when the terentatek ran roaring through the poachers’ campsite. She was relieved when Jason sent her and Mission back up the basket turbolift in order to deliver a copy of the droid’s memory that revealed the perfidy of Eli to Matton. Fortunately for her, she and Mission needed to focus on battling the kinrath and other wild animals that lurked on the foot bridges nestled among the tree tops.   
“I hate kinrath,” Mission confessed in between fights with a shiver. “All those legs!”  
Bastila would prefer to fight the kinrath as opposed to the terentatek, whose darkness both frightened and beckoned towards her. At least Mission wasn’t opposed to allowing her wounds to be healed, unlike Atton. Bastila still wasn’t entirely used to the idea of having a half-brother, especially since said sibling wasn’t a fan of Jedi.   
When they finally strode into the landing pad where the kiosk was located, Eli flashed a charming smile that didn’t affect Bastila, considering her knowledge of his deception. Matton gave the pair a tentative nod, revealing that Eli hadn’t completely obliterated the man’s confidence. At least, not yet.  
“Actually, we have something important to show you Matton,” Mission said gently. Bastila was impressed, considering that Mission possessed an atrocious habit of putting her foot in her mouth, as Jason would say.   
Matton brightened at the prospect of a message for him. “Sure, I’d be interested.”  
“I wouldn’t take too much stock in whatever they have,” Eli said, nervously glancing at the wooden beams of the walkway.   
Mission pressed “play” on the button of their copy of the recording. Eli’s face turned white as a sheet, as his perfidy was revealed. Matton, initially blushed scarlet from anger. Then he rounded on Eli.  
“Eli, you snake!” he yelled. “You left the rest of my crew to die, and convinced me that they’d abandoned me!”  
Eli slowly backed away from his irate employee. “Come now, Matton. It was just business. Nothing personal.”   
Matton lunged at the man, but Eli nimbly dodged the assault and fled along the walkway. For a second, Bastila believed that Matton would pursue the traitor. Instead, he slowly relaxed his fists and turned to the duo.  
“That lying snake killed my crew and made me a servant over a fictitious debt!”  
“Well, I doubt Eli will survive in the woods for long,” Bastila commented.   
Matton smiled. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that. I don’t have any money to reward you for helping me, but I can get you a discount on Eli’s goods, since I doubt that double-crosser will be returning anytime soon.”  
Bastila browsed the store, and purchased better armor for Mission, since the young Twi’lek’s old set was starting to wear out. She also bought a set of medpacs, since they almost constantly seemed on the verge of running out.   
“So, what now?” Mission inquired.   
“Let’s go back to the ship and get some rest,” Bastila suggested. “I doubt we’d be able to locate Jason and the others in the Shadowlands, and I don’t want us to get lost down there.”  
Thankfully her explanation satisfied Mission, and the pair walked back to where the Ebon Hawk was docked. As they rounded the corner, they entered a fight between Atton and a male Twi’lek. Atton was putting up an excellent defense, but the Twi’lek seemed to anticipate his moves. Bastila raced to her half-brother’s aid. The Twi’lek blocked her first attack, but Atton took advantage of the opening and stabbed the man who fell to the ground of the walkway.   
“Electra will never stop hunting you traitor,” the Twi’lek gasped before dying.   
Mission fussed over both of their wounds, until Bastila convinced her to take a nap. Then she turned and faced Atton, her half-brother and owner of a secret he’d concealed from the rest of the group.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
This day was turning into one of the worst days in recent memory for Atton, and that wasn’t an easy feat. First, Zaalbar was kidnapped by Wookiees who were in cahoots with Czerka, and Bastila insisted on accompanying them. Sure, she’d called him on her commlink only about an hour later, but Atton still worried about his half-sister. Then, he’d encountered one his fellow classmates sent by Electra to take him out. It was disconcerting how vindictive that bitch could be, considering he hadn’t exposed her secrets to the Republic. Now, Bastila knew he was concealing a dark secret. Normally when someone suspected his secret, he knocked them out with a punch, and vanished into the night, allowing them to hopefully forget about him. However, this was different since Bastila was his half-sister. He couldn’t abandon her, especially since he promised his mother he wouldn’t.   
He attempted to play Pazaak in his head, which normally kept him calm and collected in tense situations, but his heart really wasn’t into the game. Bastila led him into the med bay, which was currently unoccupied.  
She sat on the small cot calmly. “So, why was that Twi’lek after you and who’s Electra?” she asked.   
Atton shrugged. “Probably for the same reason anyone might be after me. Old gambling debts. I set a pack of kath hounds on them when we went to school and now they seek revenge.”  
“No, this is something much deeper than that,” Bastila uttered, unconvinced by his lies. “And if my instincts are correct it has something to do with Revan and Malak.”  
“You are way off base with this ridiculous theory of yours,” Atton said, because she was far too close to the truth. This couldn’t be happening, not on top of having Electra Lazuli hunting him. “Why don’t you just crawl in my head and find out what you’re looking for already?”  
“Look, I just want to know the truth,” Bastila said.  
“You know what? Not once have I asked you why the hell you didn’t go out and utilize your battle meditation during the Mandalorian Wars. Not once, even though maybe there are people who would still be alive today!” Atton hissed.  
Bastila’s face twitched as though she struggled not to cry, which only made Atton’s chest betray him by constricting tightly. He’d gotten close to her, because of their blood tie, but he’d forgotten one fundamental truth. Bastila was a Jedi, and Jedi weren’t to be trusted.   
“My battle meditation hadn’t even manifested yet if you must know,” she said. “Besides, you should know that the Jedi aren’t as bad as you think they are. We aren’t the Sith.”  
“The Jedi…the Sith…. you don’t get it do you?” Atton said, determined to kill any remaining naivety within his half-sister. “To the galaxy, they’re the same thing; Just men and women with too much power, squabbling over religion, while the rest of us burn. At least the Sith are honest about what they’re killing for. The Jedi are pacifists…. except in times of war. They’re teachers…. except when it comes to telling their students the truth. And when they save you, it’s only so you can suffer more.”  
“You are wrong Atton, that is not the way of the Jedi.” Bastila’s tone was infuriatingly calm, in spite of the vitriol he spat at her.  
“Whatever, just leave me alone. I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anyway.”  
“Atton, I can’t just leave you,” she said. “Not after we promised Mother we’d look after each other.”  
Damn it! She just had to bring up his one weak spot; not wishing to disappoint his newly found mother. “Well, don’t get too attached to me, I don’t like it.”   
“Why not?” Bastila inquired.  
“It’s because I’m a deserter, it’s what I do,” he replied.  
“You served in the Mandalorian Wars?” she asked.   
“Both the last war, and then this war, when Revan fought against the other Jedi,” Atton admitted.   
“But why?”  
“Because I followed orders,” Atton replied. “But it was more than that. It was easy to hate the Jedi who sat in the Republic “evaluating” the threat, and watched us die against the Mandalorians.”  
“Why did you desert?” Bastila asked.  
“Because you can’t believe in the Republic after the Mandalorian Wars,” Atton explained. “After Revan, nothing was the same. Right after that final battle at Malachor, I was right there with the rest of the defectors, because it was the right thing to do.”  
“You took an oath,” she pointed out. “What you did was betrayal.”  
“No, it wasn’t. We needed the Jedi during the Mandalorian Wars, more than anything. The Mandalorians were slaughtering us by the millions. The millions. You remember Serroco, where they turned the Stereb cities into glass craters. At Duro, when basilisk war droids rained like meteors onto the orbiting cities. And when the Mandalorians set fire to the Xoxin plains on Eres III, the fires that still burn. Without the Jedi who turned on the Council, the Republic would have lost the war, and we would all be Mandalorian slaves or corpses.”  
“That didn’t mean you had to start another war, and end more lives,” Bastila argued. At least, she hadn’t run for the hills screaming. Yet.  
“We were loyal to Revan,” Atton countered. “That was enough. He saved us.”  
“What happened then?” Bastila inquired.  
“After Malachor, after the Mandalorian Wars, that’s when the Sith teachings started spreading through the ranks. We knew where our loyalties lay-to the Jedi who came to help us, not the ones who sat back on Dantooine and Coruscant, watching us die. So, when those same Jedi who watched us die, decided to start fighting us during this war, we fought back. I fought back.”   
“How?” she asked.   
“I started killing Jedi,” Atton said, not eager to explain this part. “A lot of them. People say that killing Jedi is hard. It’s not, you just have to be smart about it. No blasters, no getting too close to them, no attacking them directly when you can gun down their allies instead. There’s way of gassing them, making them lose control, torturing them. I was really good at it. What’s worse is that killing them wasn’t the best thing. Making them fall…...making them see our side of it, that was the best.”  
“How did you kill Jedi?” Bastila inquired.  
“I taught myself…techniques. It’s hard for Jedi to sense what you’re really thinking, if you throw up walls of strong emotions and feelings. Lust, impatience, cowardice. Most Jedi awareness doesn’t cruise beyond the surface feelings, to see what’s deeper. And I was good at that, throwing up walls, and my superiors knew it. Sometimes, the Jedi on our side wouldn’t even realize I was there.”  
“Is that why you act the way you do?”   
“Part of it,” Atton admitted. “Maybe it was always part of me. It’s hard to tell sometimes. I haven’t known who am for years. I wasn’t the only one. I know you don’t know much of what’s gone on behind the scenes of this war, but Revan understood one thing, the real battle was going to be fought between the Jedi on both sides. That was the only battle that mattered.”  
“What do you mean?” Bastila asked, still puzzled.  
“Whoever had the most, the strongest Jedi were going to win the civil war. If Revan couldn’t convert Jedi, then Revan would kill them. So Revan trained elite Sith units into assassination squads, whose duty was to go out and capture enemy Jedi. I was in one of the special units trained to do this.”  
“Why did Revan decide to do this?” Bastila inquired.  
“Yeah, Revan had plans for all Jedi. I think it was important that the Jedi see his side of things. The Sith teachings. Revan wanted to break them have them join him.”  
“But you aren’t with them anymore?” Bastila asked nervously.  
“One day, I decided not to do it anymore so I left,” Atton replied. “Ended up on Nar Shaddaa, became someone else.”  
“Why are you telling me this?” Bastila asked. “You’re telling a Jedi that you killed Jedi.”  
“I’m not entirely sure myself,” Atton admitted. “Maybe because we’re related. Maybe because I can’t keep running away from this, especially with Electra on the prowl.”  
“I suppose so,” Bastila said. “But I still don’t understand how you left the Sith.”  
“Well there was a woman, a Jedi. She…. she gave her life for mine.”  
“Who?”  
“I never knew her name,” Atton admitted, something else to regret. “She sought me out. She said she had come there to save me. She was lying of course, or I think she was. It doesn’t matter, she told enough truth to get my attention.”  
“Like what?” Bastila inquired.  
“She said that Revan was doing something terrible to Jedi in the Unknown Regions,” Atton replied. “That when we captured Jedi, they were sent to a place designed to…...break them. And that anyone in his service who showed any ability with the Force was sent there too, to turn them, to break them into Dark Jedi…...or assassins trained to kill Jedi. She said that’s what would happen to me, that I had the Force inside me. That’s why I was so good at killing Jedi. And that when the Sith learned about it, there would be no escape, no turning back. I would become an instrument of the dark side forever. I had heard talk in the ranks, troops vanishing. I knew what she meant, but I didn’t believe her, or want to believe her.”  
“What did you do?” Bastila asked.   
“I did what I did with all Jedi,” Atton said. “I hurt her. I hurt her a lot. And right when I thought she couldn’t take anymore, she showed me the Force, in my head. And I felt everything she felt. And I got just a glimpse of what the Force was, and how what I doing…. I think I loved her, but it wasn’t that kind of love. It was the kind of love where you’re willing to risk everything for someone you don’t even know.”  
A troubled expression briefly crossed Bastila’s face, as though some memory from the past troubled her. “I understand what you mean.”  
“I killed her for crawling in my head for making me feel that. Before she opened her mind to mine, my only thought was that I would love to kill her. And at the end, I killed her because I loved her. When I felt her die, it hurt. I killed Jedi before, but I’d never been on the receiving end. Before emotions were just to block my thoughts. Now they all just kept tumbling out and I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing. So, I fled with the displaced war veterans to Nar Shaddaa and planned to stay there until the war came to an end. I wanted nothing to do with Dark Jedi, Jedi, or the Force. I just wanted to be left alone. Until, Electra started sending people after me. And now I’m thinking that maybe that Jedi saved me so that I could help you and Jason.”  
“That could be it,” Bastila said. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else unless you want me to.”  
“That’s relief considering I’m convinced Carth will murder me in my sleep if he ever discovers I’m one of those traitorous deserters he hates,” Atton said. “Speaking of which, if you get the chance to, you may tell Jason.”  
“Why Jason?” Bastila asked.  
“Jason seems like he’d be the least judgmental about my past.”  
“Perhaps, I’ll have to find a time when he’s not surrounded by everyone else,” Bastila said. With that, she stood and left Atton there in the med bay, and he desperately hoped that he hadn’t scared off his half-sister for good.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes finally defeat Chuundar and Czerka. Plus, Bastila reflects on some recent revelations.

Jason swore under his breath, a part of him regretted allowing Bastila and Mission to leave for the surface. He’d forgotten how strong Mandalorians could be, and these warriors remained spry from eking out an existence in the Shadow Lands. Jolee was struggling to hold off two warriors who’d ganged up on the older man. Jason admitted that Jolee was tougher than he’d initially assessed; perhaps that was a boon inherent among all Force users. Carth attempted to assist, but most of his shots either missed or barely dented the warriors’ armor.   
Desperately, he tossed a flash grenade he’d purchased earlier that day at his opponent, who briefly froze, unable to move with the smoke enveloping him. Jason deftly slashed with his lightsaber, beheading the Mandalorian warrior. The strategy was crude, but effective. Then, Jason raced to Jolee’s aid, who finally ducked under one Mandalorian’s attack while simultaneously igniting his green lightsaber into the other’s chest. The last warrior was exhausted, and in no shape to defend himself from both of them, quickly falling to the forest floor.   
“I think that’s the last of them,” Jason said, as Jolee healed the trio. “Let’s get our trophy and inform that Wookiee warrior we completed his task.”  
Carth nodded in relief, but Jolee watched him speculatively as though he was still assessing him. Jason reflected as they trekked back through the Shadowlands that it was disconcerting to have the elderly ex-Jedi scrutinize him as though he were a gemstone with potential imperfections. The Wookiee warrior was pleased with the trophy, and warned them to walk cautiously in the Shadowlands.  
Jason decided to play it safe and call it a day, since he instinctively knew that the nocturnal animals of the Shadowlands were too dangerous. However, something tossed back and forth in his mind like a crumbled ball of paper.   
“Carth, we’ve encountered at least two groups of Mandalorians without a clan,” Jason said. “What do you make of it?”  
Carth shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t really know that much about Mandalorians. You should probably ask Canderous if you want an explanation.”  
Jason nodded, not surprised since most of his comrades knew little about the Mandalorians. Jason was an exception, because he followed the mantra of ‘know thy enemy’. A Mandalorian normally only left their clan to marry a chosen partner from another clan, or if they were exiled. Then again, the Mandalorian Wars changed other things. Hopefully, Canderous could elaborate the reason why the Mandalorians now traveled in bands independent of their clan.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Bastila didn’t know how to react to the revelations about her brother’s past. While it was disconcerting to know that he’d tortured and assisted in converting Jedi, Atton obviously wasn’t participating in converting young Jedi to the Sith anymore. In addition, he’d clearly cut ties to the Sith, if this Electra woman’s relentless pursuit of him was anything to go on. Moreover, this line of reasoning transitioned into musing about Jason. Could she forgive the insidious things she knew lurked in Jason’s past, especially as the man was currently ignorant of them?  
Just then, Juhani poked her head in the dorm room. “Bastila, would you like to spar for a bit?” the Cathar inquired. “I would prefer not to get out of practice.”  
Bastila was relieved that Juhani was making an effort to keep up her training in spite of being on a vital mission for the Jedi Council. In addition, sparring with Juhani would provide a welcome distraction from her own uncomfortable thoughts.  
Bastila nodded. “Ok, as long as Atton and Mission can be there as well.” It would be an ideal opportunity to tutor Mission on the finer points of battling against combatants who wielded lightsabers. Plus, Atton may very well possess some additional useful intel when it came to battling Force wielders.   
When she entered the men’s dorm, Atton was pacing back and forth like a caged animal. Except, instead of cold iron bars, it was his insidious past that boxed him in. He jumped slightly when he noticed her.   
“Atton, would you mind supervising while Juhani and I spar?” she asked.  
“From what I’ve seen there’s no danger of Juhani embracing the dark side again,” Atton pointed out. “She lacked the calculatedness to stay with it.”  
The thought of being harmed by Juhani hadn’t even occurred to Bastila, since the Cathar seemed very sincere it continuing to be loyal to the Jedi Council and follow the light side. “I just thought you could give some pointers based on your past experiences. Especially, for Mission who doesn’t have a lot of experience fighting dark siders.”  
Atton winced from her reminder of his dark past, but nodded. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”  
As they went to fetch Mission, Bastila hoped that Atton would be able to someday put his past as a Sith torturer behind him.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“You need to remember not to overexert yourself since most Force users have good stamina,” Atton couched Mission who nodded in understanding.   
Jason was surprised when he returned to find Bastila, Juhani, Atton, and Mission conducting an impromptu training session. Atton seemed to be a bit of an expert on fighting Force users, a fact Jason filed away in the back of his mind to examine later. Jolee in spite of his claims of “not being a Jedi” eagerly jumped into the training session. Maybe, he found it refreshing to have any sort of conversation after being cut off from the rest of the galaxy for decades.   
Jason headed up to the garage where the swoop bike was stored to speak with Canderous, who had decided to bunk there since there were only three beds in the men’s dormitory. Canderous was examining the swoop bike with some wrenches and wincing when electric sparks spat out from loose wires.  
“With a bit of work, I you might be able to compete in some swoop bike races for money if we can find a track,” Canderous suggested.  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jason said. “Canderous, I have a question for you. Why is it that we’ve run into so many Mandalorians who’ve wandered separate from their clan?”   
Canderous gave him a look of resignation. “I’ve had a feeling you would query me about that. You know that we Mandalorians have a leader known as Mandalore. After he killed Mandalore, Revan took Mandalore’s mask and denied it to us. If he hadn’t, a new Mandalore would have been chosen that day. As a result, the clans scattered to the four winds. Some split off from their clans and became mercenaries for hire or bandits.”  
Jason wasn’t sure how he felt knowing that the future of the Mandalorians hinged on locating a particular mask. “Is there anyway we could fix that?”  
Canderous shook his head. “Not unless you could figure out where Revan hid the mask and returned it to one of the clans,” he said. The gray-haired mercenary changed the topic, and Jason was willing to oblige the old warrior, but in the back of his mind Jason pondered the probability of finding the mask and whether that would solve the issue of renegade Mandalorians or cause the situation to deteriorate even further.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Jolee wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or flattered that Jason insisted that he stay on the Ebon Hawk instead of trekking back to the lift that would transport him back to his home in the Shadowlands. While it was refreshing to have someone, else who cared about his welfare, he didn’t entirely appreciate being treated like a youngling. However, he was pleased that Jason selected him along with the Cathar woman known as Juhani to accompany him to the Shadowlands.   
Of course, the moment they stepped off the lift, they were confronted by a bald pale skinned human man who could only be a Sith if Jolee’s Force sense of a dark rotting smell lurking within the man’s soul was accurate. Somehow, the Sith also managed to recruit two Wookiees to serve him. Perhaps he’d claimed he would enroll them as his apprentices if they succeeded in their task.   
“So, you are the one who has been a thorn in my master’s side for so long,” he said.  
“You’re Darth Bandon?” Jason quipped. “You are a bit shorter than I’d expected given your insidious reputation as Malak’s merciless apprentice.”  
This Darth Bandon was extremely well-trained if the fact he only twitched slightly with his fingers in response to Jason’s barbed insult was an accurate observation.   
“You are no match for me!” Darth Bandon taunted. “I have studied at the knee of Darth Malak himself! Unless you wish to beg for mercy? No, then I shall make this both quick and painful.”  
There were only three of them, and the Wookiee who assisted in lowering the lift seemed to have conveniently vanished in the face of death. Jason immediately charged Darth Bandon with Juhani at his side, only for both to be blocked by the Sith, while one of the Wookiees engaged Juhani in hand-to-hand combat.   
Jolee raced to duel the other, only to be felled by a poison grenade that made his body curl up in the fetal position and his body instinctively attempted to flush all the toxins out of his system by healing himself. At least, his healing skills hadn’t been dulled by his decades of living in the Shadowlands. He managed to pull himself back to his feet and launched a second attack, forcing the Wookiee to drop his crossbow and pull out a heavy vibroblade that was specifically designed to fit into a Wookiee’s large paws. The only consolation was that Jolee had always been a talented defender, easily fending off the Wookiee’s onslaughts with his lightsaber. Minutes ticked by and Jolee was near the end of his stamina when the Wookiee finally made a mistake the former Jedi could take advantage of. He bisected the Wookiee in two, prompting a howl of grief from his opponent’s companion. Darth Bandon didn’t react to the death of his would-be disciple, confirming that he didn’t care about the two Wookiees’ welfare.   
Unfortunately, Juhani was still busy fighting the Wookiee, and Jason was struggling to gain any ground against Darth Bandon who could regenerate his own energy by stealing it from his opponents. Jolee made the tough decision to assist Juhani, who had a better of defeating of her opponent if the scales were tilted in her favor. Jolee bit his lip as Darth Bandon sucked energy from him. It brought back the dark memories of when he dueled Nayama when she embraced the dark side. Jolee shook his head to dislodge himself from the past and focus on the present. The Wookiee was surprised by his attack and quickly fell to Juhani’s lightsaber. In spite of being beset by the trio, Darth Bandon managed to hold his own, proving that he’d earned his rank as Malak’s right hand.   
Suddenly, a distant roar heralding the arrival of another Wookiee who was familiar to Jolee broke the combat. Freyyr was ancient by Wookiee standards, but was no slouch when it came to combat, surprising Darth when his fresh strength. Finally, the trio was able to gather their strength and re-launch their respective attacks. The next few seconds were a blur to Jolee’s mind, but Darth Bandon lay dead at their feet when they passed.  
Freyyr growled, as though perplexed that he’d just saved the lives of three non-Wookiees. “Who are you outsiders, and why are you trespassing? Are you more Czerka scum, here to enslave more of my people?”  
“No!” Juhani vehemently replied. “I would never willingly work with those who almost sold me into slavery.”  
This seemed to pacify Freyyr somewhat, and his eyes lit up in recognition when he noticed Jolee, who’d helped him escape from the Czerka slavers. Jolee zoned out as Freyyr explained the situation with Chuundar, although he noted the pride that shone in Freyyr’s face when Jason explained that Zaalbar had sworn a life debt to him.   
“If only there was some way to overthrow Chuundar,” Jason mused. “Czerka would prefer to cut its losses and move on to somewhere else if we took this outpost back from them.”  
“If you were able to retrieve Bacca’s blade we might be able to manage it,” Freyyr said. “However, it is caught in the hide of a terentatek. There is a way to lure it in by placing a dead kinrath on some vines. We used to sacrifice a kinrath every two months in order to satiate the great beast’s hunger. My son Chuundar discontinued the practice, but the animal hasn’t forgotten.”  
“And hopefully we’ll be able to find the Star map there,” Jason added.  
The trio then decided to head to Jolee’s hut for lunch and to clean up their wounds from the battle with Darth Bandon. He invited Freyyr to dine with them, but the old Wookiee politely declined. Perhaps he needed time alone in order to come to terms with the fact that Zaalbar, the son he’d foolishly exiled had returned and was now Chuundar’s hostage.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Canderous was uncertain of Jason’s suggestion to find Mandalore’s mask and reform the clans. On one hand, a part of him longed for the camaraderie of his brothers-in-arms and for Mandalorians to once again fight with honor for a noble cause. On the other hand, he was at a loss as to what that noble cause should be. Of course, all of this was a moot point if they couldn’t find Mandalore’s mask. Still, Canderous appreciated the sincerity behind Jason’s words.   
Suddenly, a specter from his nightmares appeared to confront him for past misdeeds.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Jason decided that if he never encountered another kinrath again it would be far too soon. Resting up at Jolee’s hut was nice and they were able to enjoy the leftovers of that nice soup Jolee made for them last time. At least, they managed to bag one kinrath for the sacrifice to the terentatek. Hopefully, they would be able to kill it.  
Suddenly, a blaster bolt shot right past him. Jason swore when he realized that it was a battle droid similar to the ones he, Bastila, and Carth battled on Tatooine. While this meant they had probably managed to locate the Star Map, they now had to face two very difficult to destroy battle droids.   
“Jolee, I hope you have some kind of technique for destroying droids,” he said.  
Jolee smiled. “I thought you would never ask.” With a wave of hands, the ex-Jedi managed to temporarily stun the battle droids. Juhani and Jason then wasted no time in slashing up the droids, reducing them to hunks of metal.   
“Assessing brain waves,” the computer stated.   
“And there’s the computer, although you’ll have a devil of a time making it work,” Jolee explained.  
“Preliminary match identified,” the computer declared. “Limited access granted.”  
“What the…. It always said rejected patterns for me!”  
“Can you tell me what this installation is for?” Jason inquired.  
“This installation was originally designed to oversee the Builders’ instructions and is now primarily for defense,” the computer explained.  
“What other people have accessed this terminal?” Jason asked.  
“Six attempts by the Wookie Freyyr denied. One hundred and forty-two attempts by the human Jolee Bindo, all denied.”  
“Well it wasn’t like there was much else to do around here,” Jolee said when Juhani gave him a questioning look.”  
“There was also an attempt made seven standard years ago,” the computer added. “However, information regarding the identity of that person has been restricted.”  
“That would probably be around the time that Revan passed through here,” Juhani commented.  
“Error, information regarding ‘Revan’ is unavailable,” the computer chimed in.  
“Can you give me access to the Star Map?” Jason asked.  
“Access to the Star Map is restricted,” the computer replied. “However, if you answered some questions and proved yourself worthy, you would be given access.”  
“Sure, go ahead and ask the questions,” Jason said, eager to get access to the Star Map.  
Then, the computer had the audacity to berate him for his answers. Jason couldn’t help it that he trusted Zaalbar. Two more battle droids sprung to life. Thankfully, both Jolee and Juhani were quick to respond to the threat. The hardest task was to knock out the droids’ shields. After they took care of that task, the droids were easy to dismantle.  
“Analyzing, well it appears there is a match after all,” the computer admitted sheepishly. “Scans of your brain during combat were enlightening.”  
“What do you mean?” Jason asked, grasping for straws as to why the computer changed its mind.  
“That information is unavailable. Access to the Star Map has been granted. This installation will now shut down.”  
At least they’d managed to get access to the Star Map, even though Jason was annoyed that his query would remain unanswered. Now they just needed to figure out how to defeat a terentatek.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
The Shadowlands were a hostile place that made Taris seem like a tame playground in comparison. Juhani wondered if the insidious Star Map played a role in making the creatures in the Shadowlands hostile and dangerous. She was pleased that she mostly was able to resist the pull by the map, proving that she’d truly managed to expel the dark side’s influence on her. However, this challenge paled to facing a terentatek.   
“Any tips on defeating a terentatek?” she queried Jolee.  
“Yeah, don’t use the Force on it,” Jolee replied. “It’s a waste of energy. Honestly, I don’t know much more then you do. I left the Order at the end of the Exar Kun War and didn’t participate in any of the hunts.”  
“Let’s hope our lightsabers are enough then,” Jason said, as he tied the kinrath into the sacrificial spot, and moved back a few paces.  
They didn’t have to wait long before the terentatek came barreling towards them in pursuit of its prey. Jason threw his lightsaber, which arced like a boomerang across the creature’s back before returning to his hand. Jolee did the same, and it made the creature pause in its stampede. Juhani threw her own lightsaber, and finally managed to score a significant hit. The terentatek staggered backwards briefly, which allowed Jason to race forward and finish it off.  
The terentatek dissolved into a noxious cloud of smoke, leaving behind what could only be Bacca’s blade. It was clean in spite of being stuck in a terentatek’s hide and was clearly Wookiee size.   
“Let’s bring this back to Freyyr and work out how we’re supposed to defeat Chuundar and Czerka,” Jason suggested, and with that they walked back towards the lift.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Bastila wasn’t surprised when Jason called and informed her they had a plan to overthrow Chuundar and Czerka. She was fascinated to learn that he wanted her to gather up the crew and do what you can to help the Wookiees beat Czerka.   
“I’ll see what I can do Jason,” she said. “Be careful, and may the Force be with you.”  
Likewise, Bastila,” he replied, and she found herself blushing as she disconnected the comm.  
Next, she needed to warn the one decent person on this planet apart from their crew. Matton greeted her with a smile, ignorant of the upheaval about to take place.  
“Let’s say that things are about to get messy in a few hours and you should hop on a ship and put as much distance between this planet and you as you can,” Bastila suggested, aware of the Czerka guards patrolling the spaceport.  
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Matton inquired. “I can’t sit back and watch others get hurt after what I’ve been through.”  
Bastila decided that at least he was branching out into helping others who were in bondage just he had once been. With that, he followed her back to the Ebon Hawk, where Bastila held a special meeting. T3 and Mission would sabotage the distress signal, while Canderous and Carth would set up barricades and defend them to ensure that no one attempted to steal the ship. Matton was willing to provide grenades for free, which left her and Atton to actually be fighting Czerka once she received Jason’s signal. She just hoped this work, both for their own sakes and the Wookiees, who’d chafed under the yoke of Czerka for far too long.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Chaos. One minute the hall that once was their father’s was quiet and orderly. The next Zaalbar glimpsed several Wookiees who were clearly still loyal to his father. While he admired their loyalty, he recognized that his brother Chuundar was right. Wookiees were destined to be enslaved, so why writhe and struggle against the inevitable, especially if one could negotiate on the length of one’s shackles. Still, he was grateful he would get to see his father one last time.  
“Look, it’s a family reunion,” Chuundar crowed, always craving to be superior to everyone else.   
“Enough Chuundar!” their father roared. “Your collaboration with Czerka ends now! I challenge you with the blade of Bacca.”  
“I still hold the hilt, in case you’ve conveniently forgotten,” Chuundar retorted.  
“Both of you stop!” Zaalbar said, attempting to dispel the anger between his two remaining family members. “There has been enough blood shed.”  
“You tell them, Zaalbar!” Jason yelled encouragingly. Zaalbar knew in that moment that even without the life debt between them, they still would have been friends.  
“I don’t know Jason. A lot of what Chuundar says makes sense.”  
Jason shook his head vehemently. “Don’t listen to him. Czerka can be overcome.”  
“Whom should I side with?” As much as he hated Chuundar for his lies and perfidy, a part of him flinched from the thought of snuffing out his brother’s life.  
“Get them both to back down and offer to make peace,” Jason said.  
“I’m tired of our old feuds. All I wish is that our people can live in peace and safe from Czerka. It is what our mother would have wished.”  
Freyyr roared his approval and Zaalbar’s chest soared with birds knowing that his father finally approved with one of his choices. “I agree. What say you Chuundar?”  
Sadly, Chuundar didn’t take the offer to redeem himself. “I still have Czerka,” he roared defiantly.  
Thankfully, Jason quickly dove and dueled two of the Czerka guards while a brown skinned human joined Juhani in fighting one of Chuundar’s loyalist Wookiees. After letting out a mournful wail, Zaalbar reluctantly stepped in and fought his own brother. In spite of living a cushy existence as chieftain of their clan, his elder brother was still a formidable opponent, easily able to block most of Zaalbar’s and his father’s attacks. In his peripheral vision, Zaalbar noted that the two Czerka guards were dead and Jason know assisted his two friends in taking down the remaining Chuundar loyalist.   
Finally, Zaalbar was able to score a hit on his brother. Blood welled from the cut, but Chuundar refused to show weakness or beg for mercy. Then, Jason was beside them, and together they brought down Chuundar, who fell to the floor of the great hall, his eyes glassy and dull.   
“What has been done, has been done,” Freyyr said mournfully. “We will drive Czerka from this place, and you’re crew will probably be the only outsiders welcome for some time. Zaalbar, it seems I was wrong about your accusations and I wish for you to remain as one of my advisors.”  
“I appreciate the offer father, but I would prefer to continue to uphold my life debt. Moreover, I feel the galaxy still needs me.”  
“I’m proud of you for upholding our traditions,” Freyyr said. “Now there’s the matter of compensating your friends for their assistance.”  
“Perhaps you could gift Zaalbar with Bacca’s blade,” Jason suggested.  
Zaalbar was flabbergasted that his friend would have the audacity to ask for the most object of his people.   
“Very well, then my son shall carry Bacca’s blade.”  
With that, Jason and the two others left, although he insisted that Zaalbar should spend some time with his father before they left. He wasn’t sure how to react to his father now that the ceremonial bits were completed. He needn’t have worried, for his father threw his arms around him and hugged Zaalbar tightly.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Atton was surprised to find that a part of him enjoyed fighting side by side with his half-sister Bastila, who seemed to at least withhold judgement about his past and had confided in no one else. Atton didn’t fancy being imbedded with blaster bolts from Carth’s weapon, if the paranoid man ever discovered that Atton was one of those traitorous deserters that he despised so much. Czerka was woefully unprepared for an uprising of Wookiees, dismissing them as primitive simpletons. Atton was pleased to see they were corrected in their assumption, yet another Czerka guard fell screaming to his blade. The Ithorian who ran the outpost and slaving ring conveniently vanished, but Atton doubted that he would hold any position of importance after he’d fumbled this operation. He also noted that Bastila seemed a quite pleased that Jason returned to them in one piece and resolved to question her about it later. For now, they would rest and tend the wounds they received. Then, it would be off to Manaan and the next Star Map.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping my reasoning regarding what Chuundar told Zaalbar makes sense.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bastila and Jason confront their growing feelings for each other, while our heroes arrive on Manaan.

At the last minute, Jason decided to explore the unknown dot marked on their star chart since it appeared to be closer than Manaan. The dot turned out to be a space station near Yavin 4, the moon where Exar Kun first embraced the dark side. To say that this made the other Force users wary was putting it mildly. Jolee in particular insisted on remaining in the medical bay he’d claimed as his own.   
Apart from the faint dark presence emanating from the moon, this seemed like a vacation. The rodian running the station eagerly sold him medpacs and some armor upgrades. Matton had relaxed enough that he willingly ate with them, even if the meals were subpar. The only issue for Jason was Bastila. He knew that there were feelings between them, but there was something holding her back.   
After Juhani convinced Jolee to have a training session with her on the station, Canderous locked himself in the cargo hold to work on the speeder bike, and Atton, Matton, Mission, Zaalbar, and Carth were engaged in a game of pazaak, Jason decided to speak to Bastila. She was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat meditating. Bastila instinctively turned to face him, the bound having already forewarned her.  
“We need to talk about our feelings,” Jason said. “I understand that you’re scared of violating the Jedi Code, but I’m guessing that isn’t the only reason. If you truly aren’t interested, then say so, and we can continue to be friends and colleagues.”  
Bastila bit her lip and glanced around to ensure no else overheard them. “All right, but not here.”  
Jason willingly followed to back to the dorm she shared with Mission. He would have followed her anywhere; a thought that frightened him. Any calculation, fell to the wayside where Bastila was concerned. He enjoyed making her happy for its own sake, instead of as an objective. Maybe it was the Force bond, but he discovered that communicating with her was as easy as breathing.   
“Love is a weakness, and she will be your undoing,” insisted a cold voice that sounded like himself, and yet was a stranger. Jason ignored the voice and sat down next to Bastila.  
“You’re stronger than I am and we both know it,” Bastila said. “At times, I feel weak like you’re holding back, but other times you make me feel stronger more alive.”  
“Bastila, you are the stronger one,” Jason countered. “You aren’t as cold as I am. At times, I see people as objectives to fulfill. You care for others, even if you feel that revealing it violates the Jedi code.”  
Bastila chuckled, her eyes haunted with something dark and sinister that Jason attempted to grasp but slid away like silken fabric. “You have no idea how cold I can be Jason. Besides, you helped me with my mother without an ulterior motive.”  
“That’s kind of my point,” Jason replied. “What you think and feel matters to me, and that’s alarming. You’re a weak spot, in a way that Carth and the others aren’t. I could sacrifice the others if it meant our objectives were fulfilled. You are different.”  
“It isn’t just the code either,” Bastila admitted. “There’s something else. Something I’m forbidden from explaining to you. Something that could destroy everything you believe about me. I feel like if I give in to my feelings, I’ll be taking advantage of you.”  
“I don’t mind being exploited, as long as it’s you doing the exploiting.”  
Bastila blushed. “You really mean it don’t you? You truly trust me.”  
Jason nodded.  
“Ok, you’ve made you’re point,” Bastila said, before closing the distance between them and kissing his lips.   
Jason wasn’t inexperienced when it came to kissing, but this was different. Electric sparks passed between them, and he simultaneously felt Bastila’s pleasure merging with his own. It wasn’t until her hands began to unbutton his shirt that Jason pulled back.  
“Wait, there’s something we need to discuss,” Jason said. “I don’t have any protection with me. I’m clean, but I want to make sure we do this safely.”  
“It’s ok, I’m on birth control,” Bastila murmured. “To regulate my menstrual cycles. Otherwise, I’d be bleeding for ten days straight.” When he still hesitated, she added, “Jason I’ve made up my mind. I want something that isn’t our mission to located and destroy the Star Forge. Something just for us.”  
Jason nodded, and she picked up where they left off.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Bastila woke with a start. She felt a warm body stretched out beside her. Jason. She had failed to keep her distance, and she was unsure how to proceed. Bastila knew that someday Jason would find out the truth and then he would despise her. It would be better to nip this in the bud, before their entanglement got out of hand. Before she forgot who Jason truly was.  
“Bastila are you all right?” Jason lifted his head, his green eyes compassionate and thoughtful.  
“We shouldn’t have done this,” she said.   
“Why not, we both wanted it,” he pointed out.  
“I’m sorry, but this can never happen again,” Bastila replied, as she hastily dressed then made a quick exit, even if it shattered her heart into a million pieces to leave.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Atton hated the awkward position he was in now sitting next to Bastila in the main hold. It was clear that something occurred between Jason and his sister. For some reason, she pushed the other man away. There was a guilty stricken look on Bastila’s face, and Atton was perplexed on how to fix it. He excelled at demolishing people’s feelings, not knitting them back together.   
At least, Jason assisting Canderous in some fight that decided Canderous’ place in the Mandalorian clans. Atton hadn’t been interested in the details. They’d said farewell to Matton, who planned to return to his homeworld. Mission was visiting her brother, and Carth insisted on accompanying her, prompting an eye roll from the teenager.  
“Why are you still here Atton?” Bastila inquired.  
“I like to hang around all you interesting people,” Atton snarked back. When she raised an eyebrow, he added. “Because of you. I promised Mother we’d watch out for each other. I can’t do that if I’m on the other side of the galaxy.”  
“You should tell Jason about your past,” Bastila suggested. “He’d understand and he could help you.”  
“I’m not sure I want to be anyone’s project. Besides, how do you know he won’t kick me out?”  
“He won’t,” she insisted.  
“Speaking of which, what’s going on between you two?” Atton asked, determined not to discuss his checkered past.  
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Bastila gazed off in the distance as though there was a paradise she was barred from entering for committing a grave sin.   
“That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Atton replied. “If you both like each other, I don’t see what the problem is.”  
“There’s something else,” Bastila confessed. “Something I can’t tell anyone.”  
“Not even me?” Atton asked.  
“Not even you Atton,” she said. “This is my burden to bear alone.”  
“You aren’t alone sister. You’ve got me, and when you’re ready to tell me, I promise not to run away screaming. After all, you listened to me when I revealed my insidious past. The least I can do is be here when whatever secret you’re carrying floats to the surface.”  
“Thank you Atton,” Bastila said, as she gripped his hand. “It means a lot that you support me.”  
He could only hope it would be enough. After all, how terrible could his half-sister’s secret really be?  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
The only reason Canderous agreed to take part in the Tatooine swoop races was to erase the image of Jagi’s body motionless in the desert sand and the pang of guilt that accompanied it. If only he could have convinced Jagi not to take his own life and cut short the existence of yet another strong Mandalorian warrior. The race was exhilarating and the obstacles were minor inconveniences. Moreover, he managed to earn a hefty purse for his pains. The rest of the crew broke out into applause as this was a rare oasis of calm in the midst of the dangerous storm that was their mission.  
“Hey do you want to talk about what happened back there?” Jason inquired.  
Canderous shook his head. “I’m grateful you assisted me, but I need time to think about what happened with Jagi.”  
As he nibbled on the cheese and crackers his companions brought, Canderous reflected that the bands of free-ranging Mandalorians would continue to plague the Republic until they were all wiped out, or until a new Mandalore rose up to unite the clans. Unfortunately, the odds of that occurring with the mask MIA were extremely remote.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
They were departing for Manaan that morning, but Mission gently persuaded Jason to make a quick stop at the Czerka store. While Griff had abandoned her on Taris, she still was concerned with his welfare, and hoped that his meeting with the Exchange regarding the tach glands went well.  
The shopkeeper didn’t seem ecstatic to see them, which was an ominous omen. It was an expression possessed by most of the people whom Griff scammed. “The distilling process failed, and Griff ran off with the money I loaned him.”  
While that was typical for Griff, Mission was heartbroken that he’d flown the coop without bothering to say good-bye to her. “Damn it Griff!”  
“He said to tell his sister he was sorry,” the shopkeeper added.  
“Mission I’m sorry about your brother,” Jason said. “However, I think you might need to accept that he isn’t going to alter his behavior.”  
Mission shrugged. “Griff will be Griff. I’m grateful he looked after me when I young, but I don’t feel like I owe him anything more.”  
When they returned to the ship, Zaalbar allowed her to hug him tightly. He knew all too well how it felt to care for a sibling who betrayed you. Mission was relieved to leave Tatooine and the perfidy of her brother behind.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
After spending several days cooped up in the Ebon Hawk and purposefully avoiding being alone with Jason, Bastila was relieved to finally view the watery planet of Manaan, even if they would need to operate with caution to avoid antagonizing the Selkath. While Bastila sympathized with Selkath’s decision to remain neutral during this dangerous and costly war, it made their own mission precarious. Fortunately, Jason decided to take both her and Jolee. While Bastila admired Carth, she knew he would be tempted to attack the Sith also present on the planet and set off a diplomatic incident that could greatly reduce the amount of kolto the Republic had access to.   
The moment they stepped off the loading ramp, an old human man approached them, and introduced himself as an old war buddy of Jolee’s.  
“As nice as it is to meet you I have a feeling this isn’t a social call,” Jason adeptly observed.   
“You remember Sunry right?” the man queried Jolee. “Well he’s been arrested and accused of murdering a Sith. He’s stuck in the Selkath courts until they declare a verdict.”  
“That’s preposterous!” Jolee replied.  
“I know, and poor Elora’s not taking it well.”  
“Don’t worry, we’ll do what we can to solve this,” Jason gently reassured the man, and Bastila was once again surprised by how charismatic he could be.  
After paying the docking fee, they immediately headed off to the Selkath courts. It was shame they were in a hurry, because Manaan was quite lovely with its orange sun reflecting off the mighty ocean. Jason spent the time inquiring with Jolee about Sunry’s character. There wasn’t much information considering it had been years since Jolee had seen Sunry and as he reflected a person could change quite a bit. The Selkath judges eagerly allowed Jason to investigate, and he threw himself into the job. Jason interviewed everyone he could think of with even a flimsy connection to Sunry, and he did a walkthrough of the crime scene itself. He easily managed to prove Sunry’s innocence, although he didn’t seem too happy about it.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
To say that Jason Archer was having a shitty day was putting it extremely mildly. The only reason he’d assisted in covering up Sunry’s guilt was the concern that it might negatively impact the war effort. Thus, he was grumpy when they entered the cantina for a drink. Bastila glanced at him with sympathy, but he wasn’t sure how to respond since she’d claimed that a relationship between them would be impossible.  
They sat at the bar in the cantina, and Jason ordered an iriaz sandwich with gooey cheese and some hot chocolate. Jolee drank down some Corellian whiskey along with the legs of some amphibian native to Manaan, while Bastila opted for a grilled cheese sandwich.   
“Yes?!” he exclaimed a little more rudely then he normally would when a Selkath approached them.   
“I apologize Jedi, I didn’t mean to bother you,” he said politely.  
“No, it’s ok. I haven’t exactly had the best day, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”  
“The Sith have been bothering you?” he guessed, his tone sympathetic.  
“No, although they haven’t exactly been pleasant to me while I’ve been here,” Jason admitted.  
“While I detest the Sith due to the neutrality of my planet I can’t intervene. Although I do my best to ensure they receive no special treatment.”  
“Every little bit helps,” Jason said. “Besides, I can understand not wanting to be embroiled in this war.”  
“My daughter has recently gone missing and I was wondering if you could investigate for me.”  
“Sure,” Jason replied, hoping that this investigation would be more straightforward and simple. After saying their farewells, the trio returned to the Ebon Hawk. Bastila opted to train with Juhani, while Jason managed to convince Carth to join the group.  
“We should stop by the Republic Embassy and see if they know anything about the Star Map,” Carth suggested as they set out.  
The embassy was easy to find and the brown skinned human in charge seemed ecstatic to see them. “Thank you for investigating Sunry’s case. While we empathized with his dilemma there wasn’t much we could do to assist him.”  
“It wasn’t any trouble,” Jason replied eager to change the subject. “Actually, we’re on a secret mission for the Jedi Council. We need to locate a Star Map that’s probably somewhere on the ocean floor.”  
“I think I know of the location where this ‘Star Map’ might be, but we need your help to complete a task.”  
“What kind of task?” Jason inquired.  
“We’ve been working with some progressive Selkath to construct a secret installation to mine more kolto, but we’ve run into some issues. We deployed a droid to investigate but have reason to believe it was captured by the Sith. We need you to retrieve the droid as it is vital to our mission here.”  
“No offense, but I doubt we could just waltz into the Sith embassy and request they return it to us,” Carth interjected.  
“We have several methods you could utilize to gain access to the Sith embassy,” the man said. “We’ve captured a Sith you could interrogate, we have some key cards you could use to hack your way in, and we have an access card to a landing bay that is exclusively utilized by visiting Sith masters.”  
“We’ll take the key card and storm the landing bay,” Jason decided, since none of them were experts when it came to interrogation or computers.  
“Bold, but it might just work,” the man uttered before handing over the access card.  
“Have you heard any rumors of missing Selkath?” Jason gently inquired.  
“No,” the man admitted. “Although if I hear anything I let you know.”  
After thanking the man, Jason stopped at a kiosk to stock up on kolto. The access card worked, and the door to the landing bay slid open. There were only two Sith soldiers standing guard, but several Dark Jedi were also present. Jason charged across to the first Dark Jedi, while Carth provided cover fire. His first opponent was strong, but lack skill and was easy to defeat. Meanwhile, Jolee expertly fended off the attentions of the other two Dark Jedi and Carth exchanged blaster fire with the two soldiers. Jason struck, drawing off one of the Dark Jedi, who clearly was the leader of the group as he didn’t fall for any of Jason’s usual tricks.   
Suddenly, Jolee’s lightsaber located a weak spot in the man’s combat form and exploited it. Jason turned to assist Carth, who was already finishing off both of the Sith soldiers. After checking his two companions for wounds they boarded the small shuttle, which only possessed a cockpit and a small refresher. Carth sat in the pilot’s chair, and after they all buckled in, the shuttle exited the landing pad, and glided toward their ultimate destination.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Electra screamed as she ripped the pillows on her bed to smithereens. Not only had her lover Bandon failed his mission, but he’d gotten himself killed. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. He was supposed to eventually to usurp Lord Malak and take his rightful place as leader of the Empire with her as his right hand. Now their dream would never come to pass.  
“Still moping over Bandon’s death,” Lord Malak taunted.  
Electra abandoned her bed and bowed low. She must continue to demonstrate proper deference to Lord Malak’s superior rank. “I only wish he’d been able to complete his mission successfully,” she replied. “Now those Jedi scum have taken the one person from the galaxy who mattered to me.”  
“As opposed to the fact that you’ve continued to fail in taking out your renegade student Atton Rand.”  
Electra blanched that he was now aware of her treacherous student. “I’ve already sent several people after him and they failed.”  
“Well perhaps it’s time you took matters into your own hands. After all, it would be a shame if the Great Electra Lazuli was bested by one of her own pupils. It would also be a shame if you needed to be replaced.”  
With that, Lord Malak departed. Electra recognized she would need to brush up on her combat skills, for if she failed to bring down Atton Rand, her life would be forfeit.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Jolee was beginning to regret agreeing to tag along on this mission. What was supposed to be a quick retrieval mission was rapidly turned into attempting not to annihilated by the multitude of traps laced throughout the base. Jason’s combat style was difficult to pin down given he frequently rapidly switched from defense to offense. Jolee just concentrated on battling one Sith trooper at a time. After what seemed to be an eternity, they finally reached the captured droid.   
“We got what we came for,” Carth said. “We should leave before security arrives.”  
Jason shook his head vigorously. “No, I feel something dark.”  
“I feel it too,” Jolee admitted. This was the true reason this mission had him anxious. The darkness reminded him a bit too much of Nayama, and the battle between them that shredded his hearts to pieces.   
Carth shrugged. “If you say so. I can’t sense anything.”  
Jason swore as when they entered a chamber and realized that there was a force field blocking them for accessing the other parts of the base. “We’ll just have to go around then,” he said.  
They trotted into the repair room and into a firefight with the Sith soldiers. Jolee charged forward alongside Jason, engaging one of the Sith soldiers who vainly attempted to defend himself with a vibroblade. He easily sliced through the man’s defenses and moved on. After several minutes, all the soldiers lay dead and Jason accessed the computer.  
“It looks like the water system is broken, but if I fiddle with it we might be able to get though,” Jason explained.  
“Just be careful Jason,” Carth commented. “I’d hate to drown, because you pushed the wrong button.”  
Jason rolled his eyes. “Have a little faith Carth.”  
The trio cautiously entered the chambers, with Jason carefully directing the water. A couple of times, Jolee was certain that Jason miscalculated and they would be dispatched to watery graves. Fortunately, Jason was finally able to clear a path for them, which led straight to a battle droid. Instinctively, Jolee deflected the blaster bolts with his lightsaber. This combined with Carth’s onslaught of blaster fire caused the machine to explode in a puff of smoke.   
Instinctively, they turned right and opened a door only to encounter three ferocious Dark Jedi. Jolee screamed as one drained energy from his body. Out of his peripheral vision, Jolee recognized that Carth had dropped his blasters and was clutching his head and moaning, a victim of dark illusions only he could see. In desperation, Jolee launched a Force push against the Dark Jedi. He succeeded in freeing Carth, who promptly grabbed his blasters and began providing cover fire to Jason, who courageously took on two of the Dark Jedi. Jolee raced to confront the third, parrying blows from the scarlet blade of his opponent. He was almost the end of his strength when he finally managed to get past the Dark Jedi’s defenses and struck home. Jolee had no time to pause, and darted to Jason’s side, and the two men gradually wore down and finished off their opponents.   
The trio briefly rested as Jolee and Jason worked to heal all of their wounds. They continued on in spite of the multitude of opponents between them and their goal. Finally, they arrived at a section of the base that seemed different, more like a school. A door slid open revealing several Selkath students who clearly were immersed in the Dark Side of the Force.  
“Who are these intruders we should inform our masters,” one of them suggested.  
“Wait!” another replied. “We should investigate on our own and thus prove we are worthy of the training we have received.”  
“My name’s Jason and we’re looking for Shaelas’ daughter Shasa.”  
“Shaelas is my father, but I have no interest in returning,” Shasa said.  
“If I find evidence that the Sith are up to no good, will you leave?” Jason pleaded.  
“We will consider your offer,” Shasa said.  
The group headed next door to what appeared to be the med bay. The door slid open to reveal a dying Selkath, with dried blood embossed on his various wounds. Jason turned to Jolee who shook his head sadly. There was nothing they could do for this poor Selkath, except provide comfort as he died.  
“Tell Shasa that the Sith are liars,” he groaned, holding up a token that Jason gently pried from the young Selkath’s grip. With his task complete, the Selkath calmly exhaled and died.   
The trio exited the med bay more somberly they entered it. Jolee in particular recognized similarities between the dead Selkath and his wife Nayama. They both recklessly threw themselves into learning the teachings of the Sith and paid the ultimate price for their folly. He only hoped they could save the other Selkath from sharing the same fate.   
Jason gently handed the token to Shasa. “Your friend gave this to us and explained that the Sith tortured him greatly. His last wish was for you to know of the Sith’s perfidy.”  
“How do we know that you didn’t slay them?” another Selkath demanded to know.   
“No Tonia,” Shasa replied. “I sense they are telling the truth. Thank you for revealing this to all of us. We will leave, and I will inform my father of what has transpired.”  
The group of young Selkath departed then, and Jolee hoped they would be able to resist the Dark Side’s pull in the future. The group continued on to a room guarded by the Dark Jedi Master who was clearly the teacher of the young Selkath. They were subjected to the usual diatribe about Lord Malak offering a great reward for Jason’s capture, before the Dark Jedi Master charged forward to engage them. It took the combined efforts of Jolee and Jason to ward him off, while Carth struggled to land any hits with his blasters. Jolee finally managed to freeze the man into a Force stasis and Jason landed the killing blow through the man’s torso. Carth cautiously walked forward into the next room and after unlocking the chest, became engrossed in the data pad contained within.   
“Guys!” he yelled “You should read this.”  
Jason took the data pad and after briefly scanning it, swore. “The Sith planned to kill off the Selkath council and install the young Selkath as puppet leaders. We need to present this to the Selkath council, so they are informed of the Sith’s treachery.”  
Leaving the Sith base was more difficult then anticipated, as their shuttle refused to start, and they lacked the necessary parts to repair it.   
“I guess we’re leaving via the front door,” Carth said.  
The trio exited the front door of the base, only to be confronted by the Selkath security who had responded to a distress signal from the Sith base.   
“Well shit,” Jason said, as they were arrested.


End file.
